Dreamweaver
by FaePirateCaptain
Summary: There is a shop, a little out of the way, tiny and unassuming from the outside. "Dreamweaver's" and its owner, Arthur Kirkland, do not run a roaring trade, but for customers who know what to ask for, they sell a valuable, and magical, service. Matthew Williams is a new customer, though he can hardly believe the entire situation - I mean, who would believe in magic just like that?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

There was very little that could be said for that shop on the corner, the one with the entrance that hid away in the armpit of the bend. It was a diminutive shop, hidden away from the daily travels of most people, and even the local residents would give a questioning "What?" if you were ever to enquire after the establishment. You wouldn't even be able to tell what it was from the outside if it weren't for the small, ancient-looking sign which read "Dreamweaver's" carved in an elegant script. In fact, you probably would never think to enter if you hadn't heard about it from someone else, someone who had already visited and discovered what lay within for themselves.

Matthew Williams was one such person to learn of the shop, standing a little apprehensively before the small wooden door which had been promised to him to hide the answer to all his prayers. He wondered if he had been tricked, or that he'd come to the wrong place; the way his 'informant' had made it sound, he was expecting something a lot more… impressive. But the name was correct, and he followed the directions to the location perfectly – he had double checked twice! There was nothing for it but to proceed onwards, so despite the crippling anxiety that twisted in his gut, he reached out to the ornate door handle and opened the door. A small bell chimed to announce his arrival, and he flinched at the unexpected and unwelcome sound.

Reluctantly creeping forward, Matthew peered in wonder at the sight he beheld beyond the threshold; he had not been expecting to see the interior of a Florist's, and a barrage of colours and aromas was his first greeting in the tiny shop, made even more cramped by the sheer volume of flowers and other plant-life crammed into the already limited space. Unexpectedly, the ceiling was almost entirely replaced with skylights, which explained the lack of windows visible from the outside, and the light shining in from above was given an earthy, green tint as it passed through the foliage of what seemed to be hundreds of hanging plants in baskets. Matthew thought he could hear the trickle of a stream for a moment, before noticing the running tap which seemed to be supplying a complex irrigation system that brought water to the dense thicket of potted plants and bouquets of flowers in vases. It all gave the impression of walking into a miniature rainforest.

Matthew shook himself out of his awed reverie and continued to walk into the shop. As he rounded the mountain of shrubbery arranged in the middle of the room, a long, dark wood counter came into view which clearly was home to the till and other implements necessary for running the shop, but Matthew's attention was immediately captured by the man standing behind said desk.

The man was no taller than Matthew, but he seemed to carry himself in a way that exuded an intimidatingly powerful aura, and he moved with a decisiveness that the timid Matthew lacked. He dressed in oddly formal clothes, especially for a florist, with a green waistcoat and tie, white shirt with rolled up sleeves, and black trousers. The only part that did not look neat and professional was his shaggy, sand coloured hair which seemed to go in all directions at once, and his thick eyebrows which seemed permanently set low over his eyes. Eyes which were fixed directly on Matthew.

Matthew had trouble with eye contact as it was, but meeting that gaze was practically impossible; the bright green eyes which seemed to be made of the jade light which filled the room, held a piercing intent which seemed to see into the very core of Matthew's being. That and his already intimidating visage almost made Matthew rethink his entire day and just u-turn right out of the shop and go home. Instead he just swallowed and tried to think of what to say as the brief second that this encounter had taken place in elongated into millennia for the poor visitor.

Time restarted suddenly, however, as the man at the counter smiled, transforming his unwelcoming features into a surprisingly kind expression.

"Welcome to Dreamweaver's Florist's. I assume you're looking for Arthur Kirkland – well, that would be me. What can I help you with?"

Matthew swallowed his rising unease, unused to people paying him enough attention to talk to him, and forced himself to look up at the man he now knew to be Arthur.

"You're… Mr. Kirkland?" Matthew said in his quiet voice barely louder than the ambient trickle of water in the air. Arthur smiled,

"The very same, though just Arthur will do."

"R-right… sorry…"

"No need for apologies, lad. So, can I help at all? Or are you just browsing? I must say I doubt it, but there's sometimes the odd one or two that come in…" Arthur mused with a smirk.

"Um, well… I heard… are you..?" Matthew swallowed again, flushing in embarrassment and cursing his scattered thoughts and lack of confidence. Arthur just waited, a reassuring smile on his face, as his flustered customer calmed down and started again.

"I was told that you can do… spells for people. Are you really a wizard?" Arthur's smile spread into a full grin and he chuckled,

"Ah, you are a Special Customer! Marvellous, I haven't anyone come in aside from the regulars for years!" he rounded the end of the counter to approach Matthew, who instinctively took a step backwards. Sensing the man's discomfort, Arthur stopped a generous distance away, causing Matthew to exhale in relief, and settled for bouncing once or twice on the balls of his feet in happiness.

"You are correct, I do cast spells and the like for my customers, but I am not a wizard - not a full one, anyway! All my magic deals with sleep and the art of dreams, so the more accurate term that I prefer to go by is a Lullamancer." Arthur said, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.

Matthew's own face lit up as his fears were banished: it wasn't a wild goose chase – he'd been told the truth after all!

"But that's perfect! You're exactly what I need." Matthew said, happily, surprising Arthur with his sudden uplift in mood.

"Well I'm very glad to hear it! I do what I can. So, first things first, lad – what would your name be?"

"I'm Matthew! Uh, Matthew Williams." He said, finally proffering his hand for the Lullamancer to shake, which he promptly did with an added bow of the head.

"A fine name, I'd say! 'Tis a pleasure, Matthew. And you already know who I am – Arthur Kirkland, Lullamancer and Florist, at your service."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

~ _Approximately 1 month prior~_

"C'mon, dude! Talk to me, you're so quiet today!" A loud and energetic voice chimed from beside Matthew, jerking him from his thoughts and causing him to almost inhale the mouthful of sandwich he had been chewing.

"I'm always quiet, Al; I don't see how you keep forgetting." Matthew replied patiently, after a brief bout of coughs. His twin brother, Alfred, had always been the more boisterous of the two of them, and Matthew had always been content to let his brother do most of the talking. It hadn't always been so obvious, the difference between them, but since a disastrous separation between their parents which somehow resulted in the two twins getting different surnames... well the boys handled it rather differently from each other, to say the least.

Alfred huffed and beat his heels back against the wall the two of them were sat on.

"I know! But I don't get to see you that often, and your lunch break is almost over. I just wanna spend some time with my baby bro, yannow?" he whined at Matthew, who rolled his eyes as he took another bite of his lunch.

"You _are_ spending time with me. And we're _twins_ , Alfred: I'm hardly the 'baby'." Matthew explained, tiredly.

"Well... I'm still the eldest." Alfred said almost smugly.

 _By about 5 minutes_ Matthew thought to himself, but he didn't have the energy to argue the point with his brother any further, so he just hummed noncommittally and let the subject drop.

Alfred watched his brother think for a moment, as he sensed the conversation die another early death. He knew how introverted Matthew was, and even though he couldn't quite relate to it, he understood him by now - they were twins, after all! It really made hanging out with Matthew hard for him though, since Alfred seemed to thrive on conversation where his brother thrived on the lack of it. But despite it all, he loved his 'little bro' and didn't want their differences to drive them apart.

"Say, Matt?" Alfred began; Matthew made a noise of acknowledgement around his final mouthful of food.

"Are you really okay working here?" He gestured to the convenience store behind them, "I mean... I know you don't really like talking to people, and I've never seen anyone in there talk to you except your boss..." Matthew looked at Alfred in surprise, feeling a sudden burst of affection for his twin as he realised how much Alfred really did care, and how much he noticed despite appearing completely egocentric and oblivious.

"Al... you don't have to worry, bro, I'm fine - I'm coping just fine." Matthew said in his quiet whisper of a voice. "Really." He added in response to Alfred's look of inquiring disbelief.

"Yeah, well I know you're _coping_ but... you always look so sad whenever I see you nowadays. And you look so tired. Are you really alright? There's nothing I can help with?"

Matthew chuckled, though quite taken aback by how on the mark Alfred was being today.

"Al, you're 'Mother Hen'-ing again." Matthew teased.

"Well I'm worried about you!" Alfred cried in indignation.

"I know, I know. But really Al, it's nothing - just some broken nights. Nightmares and the like. It can't be helped... uh..?" Matthew paused in confusion as Alfred grinned at him and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Ah, but that IS something I can help with!"

"I'm not going on medication, Alfred." Matthew said flatly. But Alfred was not dissuaded,

"Naaaah, it's not medicine! It's MAGIC!" Alfred replied excitedly. Matthew just looked at him blankly. He felt like he'd slipped into the twilight realm, but there was no escaping the reality that his brother had actually said 'magic' in a serious voice.

"Al. Come on. Don't mess with me."

"I'm not, Mattie! I went there, and it was like a whole other world, and the guy gave me a dream he'd made himself and it actually worked..!"

"Woah woah woah, hold on a sec." Matthew interrupted with difficulty, "Back up a bit, please; where? Who? What are you talking about?" Matthew asked exasperatedly, convinced that his brother was off his rocker.

"Oh, right, sorry. Well, you know ages ago, like, last month or whatever, I was trying that lucid dreaming thing, right?" Alfred said.

"Yeeees?" Matthew said suspiciously.

"Well, I told a friend of mine from work about it and, you know, how fuck all was happening, right? Well he told me about this place, way out of the way, that could sell you dreams!"

Matthew looked at his brother in a way that seemed to say ' _And you believed him without a second thought, didn't you, you absolute moron'_. Alfred ignored him though, continuing with his story,

"I know it sounds fishy, but I went along to where he told me to go and it was all totally legit! I actually found out that the guy, Arthur Kirkland - yannow, the owner of the place - didn't just sell dreams! I can't remember what he called himself, but he was basically a wizard that could cast spells based around sleep, it was so cool!"

As Matthew listened, he found it harder and harder to maintain his disbelief. As much of an idiot as his brother was, he'd never known him to be an outright liar, so as Alfred spoke about this... sleep-wizard, Matthew began to wonder if he should actually check it out himself.

"I was just in there to buy a custom dream," Alfred continued, "(And it worked and was so cool)... but I'm sure he can help you! He's a Dream… _Wizard_ , Matt! He's gotta have something that can help you sleep without cramming pills in ya!" He finished his spiel with an excited look of anticipation on his face as he waited for Matthew's response. His enthusiasm was infectious, and Matthew found himself interested by the idea despite his misgivings, and scepticism about whether magic was even real.

"A-Alright. Um... where is the place?"

"Woo! It's a little shop on the-" Alfred began, but at that moment they were interrupted by Matthew's supervisor poking her head out of the door to the shop,

"Matthew! Break's over - back on the till, please!" She called. Matthew flinched slightly and hurriedly hopped down from the wall.

"Y-Yes Miss Hedevary!" He shouted, though his shout was barely louder than normal speaking volume. He turned back to his brother who was also sliding down from the wall, "Sorry, Al..."

"Ah it's no problem, bro! You gotta work, make a livin' and all that." He said with a wink, "I'll email you the address later when I get home, alright? You'd better go and get Kirkland to sort you out, yeah? Or I'll worry even more about my Babby Brother, and you wouldn't want that!" Alfred said teasingly, ruffling Matthew's hair as Matthew laughed lightly.

"Hey, I've gotta be presentable, you ass!" Matthew laughed, knocking Alfred's hand away and trying to smooth down the crazy curl of hair that had popped out of place under Alfred's actions.

"Hehe, sorry dude." Alfred said with a grin, then swooped in to give the unprepared Matthew a great bear hug, almost lifting his brother's slight frame from the floor. He released him with another pat on the shoulder. "I'll see you again soon, yeah?"

"Alright, Al. Have a safe journey back."

"Thanks, Mattie!" Alfred turned and started to walk away, and Matthew watched for a second before turning towards the shop.

"Hey, Matt!" He turned back towards Alfred's shout from halfway to the car park, "I won't forget to send the address, so you better not forget to go, 'kay!?"

"I won't!" Matthew called back. Alfred made the 'I'm watching you' gesture with his hand while walking backwards, and Matthew chuckled and waved as Alfred turned around again, and rounded the corner of the shop out of sight.

Matthew sighed, and walked back through the door of the convenience store to confront the remainder of his shift. It was going to be a very long, very lonely 4 hours.

* * *

About a week after Alfred's visit, an email arrived in Matthew's inbox with the address of the small florist's on the corner, directions, and a lot of apologies for the sender's forgetfulness. Matthew laughed as he read it, hearing the multiple variations on ' _oh Jesus, Matt, I'm sorry! I forgot!_ ' clearly in his brother's voice. His smile faded quickly though, for his apprehension had grown over the few days he'd had to think on the matter of 'magic'. He just couldn't bring himself to really believe it. Even though he didn't believe Alfred to be lying, he'd started to think that his brother had been fooled by some sort of placebo effect, or something. He couldn't figure out whether he wanted to find out for himself or not…

He read, and reread the email for days until the address and the name Arthur Kirkland were imprinted on his memory. It took him over three weeks of indecision to finally decide to set out and find the shop. He resolved that he wouldn't tell Alfred that it took him that long, though.


	3. Chapter 3

_~Back at Dreamweaver's~_

Matthew clutched the freshly made cup of chamomile tea in his lap as he hunched awkwardly on the tall, wooden stool. He felt slightly out of place in the little corner by the counter, in his bright red, oversized sweater. He watched as Arthur rounded the wooden partition and seated himself smoothly across from him, picking up his own cup of tea which he had temporarily placed down before presenting Matthew with his. Arthur blew softly on his brew before taking a small sip and setting it back down on the counter, and Matthew mimicked him tentatively, though he continued to hold on to the steaming cup to warm his slightly chilly fingers.

"So," the Lullamancer began, causing Matthew to tense slightly despite his soft and quiet tone, "Now that we are... comfortable," Arthur cast a slightly worried glance down his customer's clearly _un_ comfortable, rigid frame, "Or at least seated - what might I be able to help you with, Matthew?" Matthew took another sip of his scalding tea to delay having to answer. He tried to think of how to phrase his problem, suddenly feeling as though it was clearly too trivial of an issue to bother someone with, now that he was faced with having to actually ask for help.

"Um, well... I have a lot of trouble sleeping..." Matthew didn't know what else to say, a deep flush rising up his face as the thought that he was wasting Arthur's time kept roaring around inside his head.

"How much trouble?" Arthur inquired, concern on his face. Matthew just wanted to run away, scared that he was just over reacting and Arthur would be concerned for nothing! But... he so desperately wanted to sleep again.

"Uhh..." Matthew stuttered to a halt as his thoughts chased each other in circles.

"Drink some more tea; chamomile's good for nerves." Matthew looked up to see Arthur smiling sympathetically at him. He nodded shakily and tried to steady himself yet again as he gulped down a mouthful of tea.

"I'm sorry."

"Not at all, lad, there's nothing to apologise for. Sleep troubles usually make things in the daytime much worse, or just far more difficult, so don't worry about a thing - from the looks of things you haven't slept much at all, am I right?" Arthur said. Matthew's hand rose unconsciously and rubbed at the dark purple rings under his eyes. He'd become so used to seeing them in the mirror that he'd almost forgotten what he looked like without them, though usually his glasses disguised them slightly. He took a deep breath, then looked up and nodded slowly. "How bad is it?" Arthur continued.

"I've never really been a very heavy sleeper... so I don't usually get much sleep anyway. But it's recently gotten a lot worse and I don't... I don't know why. I think it's been like this for about the past... two months? Maybe three." He paused and sipped at the chamomile, hoping to stave off another bout of shakes. "Almost every night, I think, the most sleep I get is... um... maybe three hours?" Arthur's eyes widened in shock but he waited for Matthew to finish, unwilling to interrupt him now that he was finally talking. "Some nights I don't... uh, don't get any sleep at all and I end up falling asleep at work. I got... um, fired - twice because of that. Then another place made me redundant, but I knew it was really... they were letting me go because I was always too tired to even try to talk to people. Nobody liked me there..." Matthew felt tears stinging at his eyes, the way that all his feelings were finally just rushing out of him in the way a dam breaks was too much. "I just... I just want to sleep again. I'm so tired." The tears started falling, and Matthew found a lime green handkerchief being offered to him across the counter. He took it from Arthur's outstretched hand, and quickly wiped his eyes, trying to scrub his embarrassment away with the tears.

"I can say, Matthew, that I have never encountered someone with such severe insomnia before." Arthur stated in a low, serious voice. "I can't really even imagine how hard getting up in the morning is with so little sleep. It's rather impressive, in a way, and you have my respect for carrying on while bearing such a burden, if you don't mind me saying." Matthew smiled sadly at Arthur, unable to say any more after his confessions for fear that he would completely break down. "But, I am truly pleased to say that I think I can help you." he continued, "I do know a spell, not often requested by my customers, to induce a deep but natural sleep. It is always dreamless, and it is sometimes difficult to wake up from if crafted too potently, but if you wish, I can craft you this today and you should be able to sleep tonight; I will just need you to help me out a little with the preparations for it; it's how the magic works."

Matthew could barely stop himself from hugging the unsuspecting wizard out of sheer joy. As it was, a few more tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and directly into the handkerchief as he laughed happily.

"Yes! Yes please! I'll do anything! Oh, I can't thank you enough!"

"Thank me when the spell works for you," Arthur said in a strange tone, "Magic isn't science, and it can be a bit finicky. I _am_ a master craftsman, if I do say so myself, but some magics don't behave... I feel I should tell you this now, and have you understand. Before it's too late to go back." He finished with an oddly grave look on his face, as though remembering something painful, and Matthew met his eyes for a long moment. There clearly was danger, that was evident in the way Arthur's eyes stared piercingly into his own clear blue ones, but he felt he could trust the Lullamancer. And besides, there was very little that he wouldn't do now that his desperation had already driven him to seek the aid of the supernatural.

"I understand." Matthew said, and Arthur smiled happily at him, the solemn look on his face now but a shadow.

"In that case," Arthur said, rising from his chair and indicating that Matthew should do the same, "We shall begin."

* * *

Arthur had instructed Matthew to walk around the shop and entertain himself for a moment with the flowers while he went into the back room to prepare a few things. So Matthew had set his now empty teacup on the counter, and started to amble through the tiny shop around the huge bushes of flora, as Arthur disappeared through a wooden door signed with numerous 'staff only' and 'no entry' warnings. Matthew couldn't help but feel comfortable and relaxed as the atmosphere of the florist's shop washed over him, and he felt as though Arthur had somehow managed to capture a perfectly peaceful fragment of nature within the ivy-laden brick walls. It was incredible, really, just how surreal it felt to walk through that front door on the grey, concrete street and end up surrounded by forest green, and all manner of vibrant colours.

His musings were cut short by the back door reopening, and Arthur striding out towards him wearing an iridescent green cloak and holding an assortment of objects including a large, leather-bound tome and a wide-necked crystal vial. Matthew watched in interest and Arthur stopped short on his trajectory and turned to place the items on the counter before he resumed his course and approached his customer.

"Well then, if you would like to return to the counter?" Arthur smiled, indicating to Matthew to follow him back to where he had left his paraphernalia.

Arthur opened the large book and Matthew almost expected a cloud of moths to rise from the pages it looked so old, but it was apparently well used for not even a trace of dust was to be seen escaping the weathered pages. The wizard found the page he was looking for quickly, and beckoned Matthew to look for himself.

The page was intricately illustrated and penned with a faintly shimmering ink which had clearly denied the natural course of time and decided that fading just would not be acceptable, for Matthew couldn't imagine an ink of richer colour even if it had been put to page before his very eyes. He marvelled at the beautiful sight, but the text was written in no language he had ever seen before, and he couldn't even hope to read the runes that the Lullamancer seemed to read with ease. Arthur's finger ran along the lines of writing, searching for something Matthew could only guess at.

"Ah, excellent - I remembered correctly!" Arthur declared, tapping his finger on the page in a satisfied manner, "Right, Matthew, this is a relatively simple spell and I'll only need one thing from you: you must choose the 'Core' of the spell." Arthur turned to Matthew and was greeted by a look of absolute bewilderment. Immediately Arthur's hand flew up and smacked into his forehead, a grimace on his face. "Oh sod it! I keep forgetting that most people can't read Fae Script! I'm so sorry, Matthew." He made an apologetic face, "This is my spellbook, which I assume you've guessed, and it says here - " he turned and traced the words with his finger again, " - 'Only one ingredient is required for the Dreamless Draught and the rest of the spell is crafted with magic energy, so complete concentration is needed' yada yada... uh, 'The spell must be infused into a flower bud, one which will bloom fully on the completion of the spell into the flower found most appealing to the Sleeper -' that would be you, Matthew." Arthur finished with a smile.

"Um... so, what do I have to do, sorry?" Matthew asked, only slightly less confused; Arthur had talked a little too fast for him to take it all in.

"Well, to put it simply, I need you to choose a flower. Any flower you like in the shop, the one you find 'most appealing'. Don't think too hard about it; go with your gut on this." Arthur explained. Matthew sighed in relief; that, at least, was something he could do.

"Right now?" Matthew asked, just to make sure, and received a single nod in reply. He turned and stared at the huge variety of plants in the room, suddenly overwhelmed by how much choice he had. How could he choose just one? He looked to Arthur, wide-eyed, but Arthur just smiled; his expression seemed to say 'take as long as you need'. Matthew gulped and walked forward back into the shop.

Walking around before, he had seen many impressive specimens. There were roses and carnations; seemingly a hundred variations of daffodil and tulip; great bunches of orchids and passionflowers; and huge bouquets of any number of unnameable flowers. He was particularly impressed by a display of lilies the same colour of blazing flames interspersed with others as pristine white as snow. He stared at the flowers for a moment, halting on his meander round the shop and wondering if these were the most appealing to him. He couldn't tell yet. It was then that a breeze drifted in through one of the open skylights, disturbing a trailing tendril of ivy which brushed against Matthew's right cheek. This in turn drew his attention to the hanging basket from whence the ivy came. Immediately, Matthew's heart felt satisfied and he smiled - he had found his flower.

Arthur came over at Matthew's soft call that he'd finished.

"So, what did you choose in the end?" He asked, his gaze indicating that he expected the fire coloured lilies to be pointed out. To his surprise, however, Matthew drew his attention to a very modest collection of plants growing in the basket just above their heads.

"This one." Matthew whispered, pointing to a tiny, delicate, blue flower which seemed to huddle close to itself as it grew. Each bloom, barely the size of a fingernail, seemed almost swamped by the same plant's own leaves, and all in all it was a plant which could be so easily overlooked among the menagerie of more extravagant vegetation.

"Speedwell, huh?" Arthur murmured thoughtfully, a crooked smile overtaking his features. He marvelled quietly at how well this small wildflower seemed to fit Matthew so perfectly, even though he had known him for only a short time. He shook his head briskly, wondering just how many people in the world would have given Matthew's answer, and so confidently too.

Arthur reached up to the basket and carefully selected and plucked a single bud from the bundle of miniscule blossoms, careful not to drop it or crush it between his fingers.

"An unusual choice. But certainly a good one - it suits you." Arthur professed sincerely. Matthew blushed at the strange compliment, unused to praise and wondering whether he really deserved it.

The two of them returned to the counter and Arthur promptly dropped the bud into the crystal vial. Matthew couldn't be sure, but through the side of the crystal he thought he saw the flower floating free in the centre of the empty space inside. The Lullamancer then gathered his book and other equipment, seemingly on impulse, and started to head for the back door once more.

"Come this way, Matthew. I usually don't let people in here, but I feel like breaking a few rules today." Arthur called over his shoulder, and he paused in the doorway, leaning on the wood to hold the door open for Matthew to enter.

Matthew rushed forward, not wanting to leave Arthur holding the door for too long, and Arthur let the door close behind them. They were instantly plunged into darkness, and Matthew froze in involuntary fright. He heard Arthur click his fingers behind him, and candles around the room flickered into life, varying colours of flame giving an ethereal and dreamlike quality to the illumination now filling the room. Matthew gawked, blown away once again by this tiny little shop in the middle of nowhere.

"Welcome to my lab!" Arthur said, and even his voice seemed muted and unearthly in the light of the candles and the hushed, expectant atmosphere of the room.

* * *

The ceiling was domed and blended seamlessly with the walls. Both were wooden, engraved with the same illegible runes from the spellbook, and crawling with ivy. To the left of the door was a number of wooden cupboards and glass-fronted cabinets full of ingredients, utensils and anything else Arthur might need for his magic; to the right, a wooden desk and bookshelf stood, with parchment and books interspersed with quills and random bits and pieces strewn across them. But the most prominent feature of the room was directly ahead: a large and complicated magic circle, inlaid in gold into the floor. The gold shimmered with the reflected light of the multicoloured candles, which stood upon tall stands in a ring around the circle.

"Lab!?" Squeaked Matthew, unable to stop himself from gaping in awe.

"Well, 'Sanctuary', 'Lair', 'Casting Shroud', any of those names are valid. I just prefer 'Laboratory' because I do so much experimentation in here, and it feels less evil than 'Lair'." He laughed, "But, the name you would find in a book of magic for a place like this is a 'Daydream Asylum'. It emulates the sensation of dreaming while you are awake, and blurs the line between the conscious and the unconscious, so it makes working with sleep magic far easier." Arthur seemed oddly proud as he spoke. Well that explained the sense of unreality, Matthew mused. He wondered how much of the room was built with magic just to make that possible.

"You... did you build this? Yourself?" Matthew asked hesitantly.

"That's right." Arthur replied, placing the spellbook down on the messy desk and flicking back to the correct page. "It took me quite some time, I can tell you! That damn Fae Script on the walls..." He trailed off, grumbling slightly. Matthew followed Arthur's back with his eyes as he talked, but found it difficult to concentrate. Looking at the cloak around the wizard's shoulders, Matthew started to feel a little dizzy as he watched the shimmering fabric interact with the flickering light in the Lab. Clearly the garment was enchanted in some manner for in this room it didn't look like it quite existed, and though it was motionless it seemed to flap and flow as though blown by a strong wind. Matthew looked away, unable to process what he was seeing, and not quite willing to just surrender to the dreamy ambience quite yet.

Arthur was perusing the book of spells closely as he rolled the vial absentmindedly between his forefingers and thumbs. All of a sudden he held it out to the side as though to drop it on the ground. Matthew felt a jolt in his stomach as he felt the urge to lunge forward and attempt to catch it, but all he did was twitch slightly, for as Arthur's supporting hand left the vial it simply hung suspended in midair at about his shoulder height. Matthew swallowed and tried to calm his racing pulse - he didn't realise magic could be so stressful! All of this 'dropping off the face of reality' couldn't be good for his blood pressure...

Finally, Arthur seemed to be ready, and he seized the last item he'd carried around with the vial and book. It was a long, thin wooden rod. His wand, evidently. He strode confidently into the centre of the magic circle, the floating vial following him. He flicked his wand to position the vial where he wanted it, and it hovered about three feet from him across the central ring of the circle, between him and Matthew.

"Right then, time to get this bud into bloom for you." He said, grinning playfully, "Let's get you that dreamless sleep." He finished, slightly quieter, his playfulness dropping away and leaving nothing but a serious concentration. He took a deep breath and raised his wand.

If in the future he were asked to recount what he saw, Matthew wouldn't be quite able to remember. Just like a dream is forgotten as the day wears on and erodes the surreal, so the spectacle of Arthur casting his magic was eventually rejected by Matthew's logical day-to-day reality and forgotten. There were parts that remained, however. He would recall the brightening glow of the candles which seemed to separate from their source and flow into the vial; he would recall how the tiny bud of speedwell seemed to absorb the light and bloom before his eyes, seeming to fill the vial more fully than that tiny bloom had any right to; he would recall how Arthur's voice resonated in the room but without sound, the runes in the wall singing in harmony with him. Though perhaps he was silent. Perhaps he was chanting, or humming, or screaming. Matthew couldn't be sure. He couldn't really be sure of any of his memories of that bizarre event. The only part of that dreamlike scene he would ever remember with clarity was Arthur catching the vial in cupped hands, the blazing light fading to a faint glow which lit his face from below. His smile, gentle and almost affectionate as he gazed down at the enchanted speedwell blossom, was seared into Matthew's memory. And Matthew remembered rubbing tears from his face, though he couldn't remember shedding them in the first place.

Matthew and Arthur had left the Lab and returned to the relative sanity of the Florist shop. Matthew had received the glowing bottle from Arthur in a daze, along with instruction to place the vial under his pillow whenever he required the effects of the draught. Its power would last for ten days worth of uses, and Arthur had said something about coming back to the shop if he ever needed him again. Clearly, Matthew had been on autopilot for the final interactions and the journey home, as he had no recollection of either; before he knew it, he was back in his home. He went straight to his room, shoving the vial beneath his pillow, and without getting changed or even letting go of the cold crystal, his eyes closed and he was instantly asleep. It was the deepest he had ever slept, dreamless and undisturbed, watched over by the warm glow of the speedwell held slackly in his fist.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Chapter 4_**

The sparrow fluttered and chirped in annoyance, once again dancing out of reach of Arthur's hands. He huffed in irritation, breathing heavily. The little bird had flown in through an open skylight and Arthur had spent the entire morning trying to chase it back out again. Arthur felt it very unfair that he was feeling so exhausted while the bird still seemed to have energy to spare.

"Look, bird, you can't stay here! I'm sure the bonsais look like lovely nesting places but living in this tiny room is not going to be good for you." Arthur said, exasperated. The sparrow seemed to pointedly ignore him, as though to say 'you can't tell me what to do', and hopped happily around the number of bonsai trees arranged on a high shelf. Arthur frowned, frustrated that he couldn't just force the bird to listen to him.

He sighed in resignation, seating himself behind the counter and laying his head upon it. Bloody bird, giving him the complete run around so early in the morning. It was completely uncalled for, making him so tired. He could always cast a spell to make the bird return to its proper habitat, but it seemed like such a waste of energy. And he supposed it wasn't actually causing any damage - it was too small to knock stuff around. He raised his head and watched the fluttering figure flit from plant to plant in the upper level of his shop. It seemed to be having a whale of a time catching flies and other bugs that had already made his plants their home. He smiled in amusement. Maybe a little birdie housekeeper wouldn't be such a bad thing; a high insect population was never good for the sweet peas, and it was pretty cute after all. Just so long as it wasn't trapped against its will.

"Alright, bird. You win. I guess you can stay. Just don't get in the way." Arthur sighed resignedly, getting to his feet again and going to right a few of the potted topiaries he had knocked over in his frantic pursuit of the sparrow earlier. The sparrow in question cheeped loudly and continued its acrobatic banquet of insects with little regard to the actions of its host.

It had been two weeks since Matthew had visited Dreamweavers, and Arthur hadn't been able to forget the short interaction they had had. At every slow moment like this one, an image of the quiet, anxious man would pop unexpectedly into Arthur's train of thought, and he would invariably wonder how he was doing now that he had the Draught. Did it help him to sleep? Was the reason he hadn't returned because it didn't work? Was he just too nervous to come back? He didn't know why he worried so much, but he felt inextricably drawn to Matthew – he just seemed to give off an aura that made you want to protect him.

Arthur wasn't lacking in distractions from his worries, though – far from it! There was always work to do with caring for the flowers in the shop: changing water; pruning and clearing up dead leaves; collecting seed pods; and myriad other chores and tasks. That and his regulars coming by like clockwork for their fresh dream concoctions. Mr. Honda, especially, seemed to be going through his orders like water at the moment, and Arthur had found himself almost overwhelmed with requests from him at one point. But Arthur wasn't really upset about that; he enjoyed making dreams for Honda-san since the Japanese man always gave him such interesting material to work with in their conversations, and he would never complain about extra visits from the old customer (Arthur had never asked his age, and there was no way to guess, but Honda talked like an old man so he always seemed to think of him as one).

He'd also found himself frequenting his lab in his spare time more often too. Ever since he had revisited magic other than dream crafting, he had found a forgotten fire within him rekindling itself. It was like going for a long time without water or air, in a way, though more accurately it was like eating only plain bread for a long time, long enough to get used to it, and then eating the starter to the most flavoursome three-course meal you could imagine! He finally tasted the beginnings of 'real food' again, and he wasn't going to rescind the rest of the meal. He wanted more of the rich taste, the diversity of flavours… to put it plainly, he became aware of just how bored he'd become with the same thing over and over again. He could still remember the time he fell in love with Lullamancy, and the thrill of experimentation, but apparently he had lost sight of it over the years – he wanted to remember how brightly the flame could burn. So, he suddenly had a very messy lab with scrolls and old tomes lying open everywhere, vials full of all sorts of experimental substances, and a head full of disjointed ideas that he had no idea how to order in a way to create something useful. Nevertheless, he wanted to try… all thanks to Matthew's visit.

And so, inevitably, his thoughts always returned to Matthew. Even with all his distractions, he couldn't stop worrying. It had been considerably longer (was four days considerable?) than the ten days of uses, and that could mean any number of things. Arthur hated speculating without evidence, but despite himself he ended up thinking that maybe his magic had failed; he had failed his task to help the poor boy sleep, and scared him away by showing him the lab at the same time. Really, a thorough job all round. He probably should have treated him like any other customer and kept him _out_ of view of surreal, magical shenanigans.

Arthur snorted to himself as he ran a broom around the shop to sweep up the spilled soil, whatever the reasons it's not like he had any control over what Matthew chose to do so there was no sense in fretting over it all the time, he told himself. Of course, his never ending stream of questions and concerns continued to spiral around in his head regardless, and not a single one could be addressed if Matthew never came back to the shop. The thought made him a little sad.

He glanced up at the now resident sparrow just in time to see it dart back out of the skylight whence it came earlier that morning. He raised an eyebrow.

"Unbelieveable. Worse than a cat! As soon as you _want_ them to stay they go and bugger off! Bloody hell…" Arthur grumbled wryly, shaking his head in amusement as he returned the broom to the cupboard by the counter.

"Thought I had a new friend, Mr. Sparrow. You break my heart, you do!" He leaned on the counter, addressing the skylight sarcastically. He laughed and reached for the pole to finally close the window.

However, before he could even touch the thing, his thoughts were interrupted by a chime from the shop's door. A customer? Well, well, well, not just any customer. Arthur's face split into a wide grin as at least half of his fears were appeased.

"Ah! Welcome back, Matthew! I'm glad to see you again."

"Oh… uh, thank you… Mr Kirkland." Stuttered Matthew, who was standing awkwardly by a display of begonias.

"Really, Matthew, just 'Arthur' is fine." He replied, and Matthew nodded shyly with an apologetic smile. "So, how can I help you today?" He smiled. He noticed that the bags beneath Matthew's eyes seemed much less pronounced than they had been last time, though perhaps it was just an illusion.

"Oh... Um..." Matthew stuttered, wringing his hands, "well... I mean, I tried going without it for a while - it's not that I didn't trust you, it's just that despite everything that happened I couldn't quite bring myself to believe that magic exists, so I tried testing whether the draught was actually having an effect, and it was amazing that I could only get to sleep when the bottle was under my pillow - there really isn't any logical explanation except magic, since surely a placebo effect wouldn't be so strong - but it seemed to run out the other day; I mean, I'm sure you know it's run out since you told me it was ten days of uses so I don't know why I'm telling you -" Matthew babbled in a rush and suddenly stopped as though his train of thought had run into a brick wall of embarrassment. Arthur suppressed a chuckle; he was still as tragically nervous as Arthur remembered. It was like Matthew had been rehearsing a speech in his head before coming to the shop and then got stage fright on the delivery... perhaps that's exactly what happened, Arthur mused.

"Sorry, Matthew, I got the gist of that but you may need to slow down a bit for me." Arthur began jovially, but he continued quickly to make sure that he didn't hurt Matthew's fragile confidence, "To be honest I'm just happy to see you back - I was starting to worry that I'd scared you off, or that my spell hadn't worked and you thought I was a fraud." He grinned, and earned a shaky laugh from Matthew, who seemed to be slightly more a ease than before. Arthur rounded the counter and then leaned back on it casually, regarding Matthew with a friendly but inquiring gaze. "So, the draught worked for you?"

"Ah! Yes, after testing it, I can't come to any other conclusion other than it did work." Matthew said, slower and more calmly that his garbled monologue from before. "I still can't quite believe that magic is real though..." he laughed quietly. Arthur smiled back,

"You're a scientist then?"

"Well, I do love science," Matthew began, "Ever since I was little I've really liked how methodical it is, and how you can logically explain almost anything if you look at it the right way..." He paused, the enthusiasm in his face dying down slightly as he seemed to inwardly restrain himself, "But I suppose magic is one of the things I can't explain, and it's put my view of reality in a bit of an upheaval, eh?" he finished with an embarrassed smile. Arthur remembered his own first experiences with magic; he had been quite young but he had been very similar to Matthew in the sense that he saw the world as a series of logical puzzle pieces that fitted together perfectly with no room for the fantastical and unexplainable inbetween. The existence of magic certainly shattered that jigsaw for him, so for Matthew it must be a similar sort of thing. He smiled sympathetically, and scratched the back of his neck.

"Well, personally I can't explain magic with science, but if _you_ manage to then do let me know." Arthur joked, then sobered slightly, trying to sound reassuring "But regardless: it does get better - you do get used to it eventually. Honestly, I quite like the fact that magic is there, holding together the cracks in science, even if it's unexplainable... well, of course I do: I'm a wizard!" Arthur finished dramatically, posing with his hand over his heart and a mock look of snobbery on his face. Matthew suddenly laughed, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement as his hand flew up to cover his mouth. Arthur laughed with him, pleased to see a genuinely unguarded expression from the Canadian for the first time. It was quite endearing... in a way.

"I'll try to get used to it quickly then." Matthew said over his retreating hand, still smiling.

"That's the spirit!" Arthur proclaimed, "But, I shall bring us back to the original topic, no? What can I do for you? I assume that you came back to request my services once again?" Arthur enquired, hoping he'd be able to help Matthew again if he needed it.

"Ah, yes, please. I... well, I'd quite like another of the same thing... if you don't mind..." Matthew requested, haltingly, his frame seeming to shrink as he hunched and crossed his arm across his torso. "I mean, if you're too busy, then..."

"Of course I don't mind, Matthew," Arthur interrupted kindly, "I always have time for a customer - and you especially require my aid, so how can I refuse?" He declared with finality, and Matthew looked relieved. _Was he expecting to be rejected or something?_ Arthur wondered in astonishment. "So, by the 'same again' I would surmise that you want another batch of the Dreamless Draught?"

"Yes, please." Matthew said softly.

Arthur clapped his hands together, and walked back around the counter, beckoning Matthew further into the shop as he did so.

"Well then, let's get started right away! You remember what to do from last time?" He asked and Matthew nodded mutely, "Very good, then just do the same as before - pick out any flower from the shop. Doesn't have to be the same as last time, but if it still feels like that's the one then go for it." He pulled out a vial from under the desk as Matthew nodded and began his sweep of the shop. Just like the last time, none of the flowers really seemed to jump out at him as 'his flower'. He liked the amaryllises, the carnations, the lilies, but just as before he only felt the powerful draw to the tiny speedwell plant growing in the hanging baskets.

"Ummm..?" He called tentatively, looking around, and then jumped violently as he found Arthur standing much nearer than he was expecting, already dressed in his bizarre cloak and with vial in hand. He smirked at the startled man,

"The same as before, I take it?" He asked lightly, and Matthew nodded with a self-conscious giggle.

Arthur moved forwards wordlessly, Matthew backing out of the way, and deftly plucked another new bud from the little flower. He dropped it into the vial and turned to head towards his Lab, but he paused mid-stride. Turning back to Matthew, he said

"Er... If you want to then you can come in to watch again. But, if you don't want to... well most people don't watch anyway, so..." Arthur trailed off, wondering why exactly he was inviting Matthew into the Lab again. Clearly it had been a bit overwhelming last time, and customers usually stay outside as a rule. Not to mention the discussion of 'reality-shattering revelations' from before; he didn't want to scare Matthew after all.

Matthew didn't say anything for a moment, a small, indecipherable frown on his face, and Arthur wondered whether he was actually tempted, but then he gave an apologetic smile,

"I'll sit this one out today, I think. Sorry."

"No, no, don't apologise! Don't know why you'd -... Well, anyway, I'll be back with the spell in just a moment. Feel free to have a seat while you wait." He smiled and resumed his course to the Lab.

Arthur had no idea where the wave of crushing disappointment had come from, nor what had caused it, but for some reason he felt more than a little sad that Matthew had refused the invitation. _You must have spooked him two weeks ago after all, and now he thinks you're weird for being able to do magic_ a little voice in the back of Arthur's head spoke up. He couldn't understand why he even cared so much - Matthew was just a customer, right? He shook himself and tried to forget his nonsensical worries, stepping confidently into the dark room and feeling the familiar connection to the dreamscape intensify and flare within him.

It was a very comfortable feeling, at least after so long practicing Lullamancy. At first, when he had been a new Lullamancer and still an apprentice, the sensation of stepping into the border between the conscious and the unconscious had been like falling off a very tall cliff and plummeting very fast. His first few attempts at making the connection had been abysmal; the shock of the feeling had jolted him out of his trance, and he'd been very afraid of leaving his comfortable place in the conscious plane again, which just made the next attempt worse. His master hadn't been very pleased with him, and he'd been forced to meditate in his master's Daydream Asylum until he had managed to get used to 'jumping off the cliff'. But, now that he'd become a master of the art himself, connecting to the dreamscape didn't feel like falling anymore; it felt like a combination between stepping through the door to your home, and being immersed in a warm and still lake, but most of all it felt like jumping from that same cliff and flying instead.

The candles ignited and the inscriptions on the walls hummed in response to their master's arrival, and Arthur smiled as he walked into the circle to begin crafting the Dreamless Draught. When he was in here, nothing else mattered, only magic and the spell he called forth. He couldn't imagine a greater feeling than the freedom and power that Lullamancy gave to him. He concentrated, calling the runes of fae script that he needed into his mind, and raised his wand.

* * *

"Thank you so much, - Arthur!" Matthew exclaimed in delight, stumbling over Arthur's name a little but remembering not to call him 'Mr. Kirkland' again. Arthur smiled warmly, handing the glowing vial over into Matthew's somewhat shaky hands.

"Not at all, Matthew, it's a pleasure. Any time you need a 'refill', so to speak, I am always happy to assist!" He said earnestly, bowing his head in a polite nod. "And if at any point you need to kill some time, my shop is always available if you want to have some tea and relaxation, too." He added with a playful smile. Matthew chuckled,

"Hehe, I might take you up on the offer. Thank you."

Arthur felt his breath catch in his throat a little, not expecting Matthew to be so eager, and felt a surprising surge of elation at his words. The prospect of seeing the Canadian again before the ten day's worth of uses was up gave Arthur an odd churning feeling in his stomach that he didn't have time to question at present.

"I'll look forward to seeing you." He said, and sincerely meant it. Somehow Matthew's two small visits to Dreamweavers had left a lasting impression on Arthur, and he felt oddly enchanted by his new customer's company.

Matthew and Arthur said their farewells, Matthew with his new spell clutched tightly in both hands, and Arthur feeling practically buoyant, eagerly anticipating Matthew's next visit. He hoped he wouldn't be too busy and would get the opportunity to sit down and talk with him again.

 _I wonder if Matthew would like that new blend of tea that I tried recently. I'll have to stock up on some more chamomile, and make sure the juniper bush has some berries._ He pondered as he set about his work with the flowers once more.

The sky darkened to crimson, then to black through the skylights overhead, and for the whole time a small smile never left Arthur's face as he worked through the evening. Unbeknownst to him, the sparrow from the morning flitted back in through the window and nestled into a bushel of lavender in a high basket. It tucked its head under its wing and fell asleep swiftly, its new home still rocking slightly after the bird's landing.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm so sorry for such a large gap between this and the last chapter - it was a toughie to write, and I'm pretty sure I've rewritten it at least 3 times now. But I'm as happy with it as I'm going to be so I'll just move on to the next one; hopefully it will be easier. ^^'**

 **However, the main reason for this note here is to say thank you so much for the follows, favourites and such lovely reviews! It really made my day when I read them and it definitely inspired me to keep writing this story. I'm sorry that I don't reply individually, but do know that if you left a review I really appreciate your words so much.**

 **I'll stop rambling now, but I hope you'll stick with me for the rest of this journey with ol' Arthur and Mattie - it's all planned out, so now I just have to write it. I'll find the time somehow!**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Chapter 5_**

Matthew almost snorted the Chamomile and Juniper tea out of his nose with mirth, but managed to restrain his laughter until after he'd swallowed, though not without some difficulty. He gasped in a breath as he carefully lowered the porcelain teacup back to rest on the counter at Dreamweaver's, and tried to control the coughing fit induced by almost inhaling his drink. Arthur watched the spectacle with glee, a fit of laughter of his own bubbling up in response, surprised at the intensity of Matthew's reaction to his poor impression of Matthew's boss at work.

"Arthur... oh gosh! No, Miss Hedevary does _not_ sound like that! If she did..." He snorted again at the thought, an image of the stern woman parading about the convenience store with a top hat and monocle dancing through his head.

"Well I'm not really one for impressions," Arthur chuckled, "but she still sounds like an uptight busybody to me!"

"Oh... she's not so bad, really. Once you get used to her you just sort of... avoid arguing?"

"That's entirely my point - if she can't treat you like an equal and listen to what you have to say, then it sounds like a pretty terrible work environment to me!" Arthur finished with a small nod as if to say 'so that's that', and brought his own teacup back to his lips, and Matthew thought for a moment. So he wasn't just overreacting then? If even Arthur thought that it wasn't right that he was ignored and dismissed on a regular basis, then... he suddenly felt like a weight had been lifted.

"Thanks, Arthur." he smiled.

"...You're welcome, but whatever for?" Arthur asked amusedly. _For making me feel like my feelings weren't stupid_ Matthew thought, but he just smiled at Arthur instead.

It had been almost two months since Matthew's return to Dreamweaver's, and the Canadian had made it somewhat of a habit to visit the shop after work on as many days as possible. Initially he was very nervous about going without a 'Very Good Reason', but he managed to convince himself to go; he truly loved the feeling of serenity and calm that the florist's had, and he felt like he could trust Arthur. As strange or mystifying as the man was, Matthew still felt an unwavering aura of kindness radiating from the wizard, and he felt he had managed to speak to him relatively normally: he felt he had possibly made a friend in Arthur.

When he had shown up just a few days later, Arthur had seemed genuinely pleased to see him and had offered him tea and a place to sit by the counter. He'd left him in silence for a time while he tended to the shop, and that suited Matthew just fine as he sat drinking his tea and feeling comforted by the blanket that was the tiny forest in the shop. Arthur had eventually joined him with his own cup of tea, and though the silence had continued, it had been a comfortable one broken only by the calming, ever present trickle of water. When they did start conversation it felt very natural, and Matthew couldn't have been happier with his decision to visit. They ended up talking about science, and then botany, then herbal or medicinal uses of plants, and various topics beyond. Time began to fly by, and since Matthew had visited after work, it was dark before they knew it. He was reluctant to leave so soon since they were still part way through a conversation on the supposed health benefits of different teas, and he was enjoying listening to Arthur's very strong opinions on what constituted a 'good cup of tea'. But, Arthur insisted that they both rest properly for work the next day and that they could continue their conversation next time - he would be here and happy to have Matthew round - and Matthew couldn't argue since he knew how important it was to sleep.

That began Matthew's pattern of stopping in to Dreamweaver's on his way home from work, and it transpired that in the seven and a half weeks of doing so he had visited on more days than he hadn't. Arthur always seemed to have a place ready for him and a new blend of tea prepared for him to try, and Matthew began to relax his guard a little more each day. Their conversations were always enjoyable, but little by little they both began to speak about themselves and learn little things about each other. Arthur learned about Matthew's life, how he had a twin brother and about their family situation, he was sad to learn of Matthew's lack of anyone he could call a friend, and sometimes Matthew would complain to him about his colleagues at work, or about customers. Matthew liked to listen to Arthur's stories about his own customers, and he often tried to picture them in his head. Arthur made them all sound a little eccentric, but Matthew thought they may well be accurate accounts since they _were_ customers of a _magic_ shop after all.

He also learned about Arthur's old mentor who he spoke about with great reverence, yet also great annoyance at times - he clearly respected her as a powerful magician, and was thankful to her for taking him on as her apprentice, yet the woman had evidently been rather... Spartan in her training at times, and Arthur had more than a few distasteful memories of her. Matthew had once asked Arthur about his family, but Arthur had been oddly uncomfortable with the topic and only said that the mentor woman was the only family he'd ever needed; the topic of friends yielded similar results. Matthew decided not to ask again - he didn't like it when Arthur wasn't smiling confidently at him.

With all that he'd learned of Arthur, Matthew felt he understood him a little better than before, and yet he remained a complete enigma at times. Matthew didn't mind though; enjoying Arthur's company, and talking with him about whatever took their fancy, or simply sitting with him in silence while they drank tea in the shop, all of it was a sanctuary he looked forward to at the end of the day. Especially at times like now, where he could actually laugh wholeheartedly about his life and the people in it, both of which never gave him any reason to smile in their original state.

Earlier in the day at work, Matthew had been set to sweeping aisles at the store and he had noticed a large shortage of stock on the shelves, but nobody was set to restocking. Figuring it was more important to stock the shelves than to clean up, and that no one noticed him usually anyway, he would just quickly go to the back and do it himself. It would help everyone out and he could go back to cleaning afterwards. Unfortunately, however, before he had even collected the first box, the manager, Elizaveta Hedevary, had found him as she came back in through the back door. Assuming the worst, that he was slacking off from work, she had immediately told him to go back to work. He tried to explain, but he was too quiet and stumbled over his words - and regardless, Elizaveta didn't listen anyway. Matthew had felt awful about the incident the whole time from the point he'd dejectedly returned to his abandoned broom in the aisle, all the way up to his visit to Dreamweavers after he had clocked out. His visit had gone much the same as it always went - tea, watching Arthur tend the plants, sitting with him, talking quietly, and watching the sparrow use the new birdbath Arthur had built - but then Arthur had noticed Matthew seemed sadder than he usually was. Matthew was surprised, and when prompted he had confided in Arthur about his day, at which point the wizard proceeded to scoff in anger and enacted his poor imitation of Elizaveta in which she poshly declared that she 'always knows best, and all underlings must obey'! Matthew was grateful to Arthur: he could see the funny side now, having someone support his view, since before he was only filled to the brim with anxiety over his alleged mistake. _When the whole world tells you you're wrong, you need someone to tell you otherwise or you'll just believe it_ he thought to himself, wistfully.

"So, have you had any customers visit lately, Arthur?" Matthew asks after a long pause, the two of them sipping their tea contentedly.

"No, not since Mr Honda's last visit. If you weren't here I'd probably be getting decidedly bored by now, Matthew." He smirked over his teacup. Matthew snorted, embarrassed.

"I'm sure you'd be fine - I'm not really that much fun." Matthew said sheepishly.

"You underestimate yourself." Arthur said simply, leaving no room for argument, and Matthew had to look away, his ears starting to take on the hue of the crimson amaryllis behind him. There was a splash from the bird bath in the silence, the sparrow off in the pursuit of food once more, before Arthur spoke again. "I hope you've been sleeping well, by the way."

Matthew smiled. Arthur did this quite often, diverting the focus of the conversation away from himself. He seemed to hate talking about himself or his life, but, despite being forever curious, Matthew was happy to oblige him.

"Yeah, I feel like I've never felt so rested in my life." Matthew said, smiling, "The draughts really are amazing, Arthur - thank you so much! Even though I know I've said it before." he laughed, pre-empting Arthur's usual comment that he thanked him too much.

"Well, I'm glad they're still working. You're due a refill soon, right? It's been eight..? Nine days..?"

"I ran out just yesterday, actually." Matthew replied with a tentative smile.

"Oh, well in that case I shall get right to making you a new one!" Arthur chuckled, downing the rest of his tea and standing up. Matthew did the same, though with perhaps a little less vigour than Arthur.

"Thank you - I'll get the speedwell."

"Very good. Want to come in today?" Arthur asked, as per usual, in regards to entering the lab again. Matthew shook his head kindly - the expected response.

"Not today."

"Alrighty, then I'll wait by the door for you." Arthur said, striding to the lab to collect the vial.

Matthew found the speedwell in the baskets and took a bud like he had done the last few times, noting fondly that Arthur had planted more of the tiny flower since his last batch of dreamless draught. He wondered if they had been planted just for him. He took the piece of the flower to Arthur who was standing by the doorway to the lab, just as he'd said, and put it into the vial Arthur held out.

"Right then, I'll be right back." Arthur said briskly, corking the bottle, and he turned back to the lab.

Matthew waited outside. Every time Arthur offered to let him inside again, and every time Matthew refused but he didn't know why. It's not like he was frightened, or that he disliked watching the bizarre unfolding of Arthur's magic - on the contrary, he was almost burningly curious to see it again and feel those intangible feelings - but he simply felt like he didn't belong there. The doorway emblazoned with 'DO NOT ENTER' felt like the barrier to some world that he was a stranger to, an intruder who wasn't really welcome. They were probably unwarranted, groundless thoughts, but they were there nonetheless. That was Arthur's domain, and Matthew felt he had no place in it.

Arthur returned quickly, like he always did, and handed the vial to Matthew who pocketed it right away. He smiled his thanks, and glanced up automatically to see the daylight almost faded once more.

"I suppose I'd better head home then, eh?" He said, walking with Arthur back to the counter to collect his coat.

"I suppose so, yes. When's you're next working day?"

"Monday - I finally have a whole weekend off." Matthew grinned, buttoning up his coat.

"Excellent, I'm glad for you!" Arthur beamed, then became thoughtful, "Hmm. How would you like to come with me for a walk over the hill on Saturday? It would certainly be more fun with you there." He asked. Matthew brightened; Arthur went through the woods on the hill to collect cuttings to grow at the shop, and for just a nice escape to the fresh air, and Matthew had never had time or reason to go walking before. It sounded fun. But he swiftly lost his smile,

"Oh... I'm sorry, Arthur. I already promised my brother that he could come round that day."

"Ah... oh well, it can't be helped. I'll just have to put up with the two days of boredom." He said with a wink. Matthew felt terrible for turning him down and fumbled for words for a minute,

"I really, really want to go! I just can't. I would if my brother wasn't coming, but..." he blurted out, worried that Arthur was disappointed, but he stuttered to a halt. Arthur just smiled at him.

"I know. Don't worry Matthew, it's okay - you're not obliged to go, and it was out of left field anyway. Maybe next time, yeah?"

 _Oh, he's definitely disappointed_ Matthew thought, his brow furrowing over his downcast gaze, "I'm sorry..." Arthur just clapped him on the shoulder, waiting for Matthew to look at him. He held eye contact, seemingly trying to convey his sincerity,

"Really, it's fine. Like I said: next time. Okay?" He said quietly, and Matthew had to smile. Well... if he wasn't mad then it was alright... right?

"Okay."

"Good, good!" Arthur said, at normal volume, releasing Matthew, "Alright, I shall see you on Monday. Have a good time with your brother tomorrow."

"Thank you. And you have a good walk - good luck finding stuff." He replied as they both walked towards the front door. Matthew opened it and stepped out.

"Thanks, I'll probably need it!" Chuckled Arthur, "Goodnight, Matthew." He finished.

"Good night." Matthew replied sheepishly, giving a wave and walking down the street into the dark. Arthur watched him go for a moment before closing the door, and shutting down the shop for the night.

When Matthew reached home, all the events of the day seemed to catch up to him, and he was suddenly very thankful for the new vial of dreamless sleep he had in his pocket, for he felt unexpectedly very, very tired.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Chapter 6_**

"Mattheeew! Comfort meeee!"

Matthew had barely opened his front door when a great mass in a bomber jacket had flung itself over his shoulders. He grunted under the sudden embrace and tried to stop himself from falling over under the rather considerable weight of what he now realised was his brother.

"Ugh... Al- Alfred! Please! Suffocating... me!" He gasped out, and the pressure on his spine lessened as Alfred straightened up slightly. He took his own weight on his legs but didn't let go of Matthew as he backed up to look at his brother morosely.

"Oh Mattieeeee! You won't believe the day I've had!" He griped, slumping slightly so that he was looking dejectedly up into the bewildered face of his twin. The arms around Matthew's neck were tugging rather uncomfortably again and Matthew winced, returning the hug stiffly and giving Alfred an awkward pat on the back.

"Alright, Al, but let's save this for... ugh... when we're inside, eh?" Matthew protested, trying his best to shuffle both him and Alfred into a position where he could close the front door.

"Ohhhhh okay..." Alfred said sulkily, letting go of Matthew. He seemed to perk up immediately though as he sprinted off through the hallway to the living room, shouting over his shoulder "I get the couch!"

Matthew sighed, rubbing his neck, and closed the door as he heard a shout and a creaking thud as his brother jumped face first onto the sofa. He couldn't see it, but he knew that was what happened - it was what that overgrown child always did. He made his own more leisurely way along the hall and poked his head around the door to the living room to see Alfred in his usual position: full sprawl along the three-person sofa, one leg still dangling over the arm rest, and the giant cushion at the other end grasped tightly in both arms. Matthew chuckled, glad that Alfred wasn't too sad to act like his usual boisterous self. If he'd just sat down like a normal human, that's when Matthew would have been genuinely concerned. As it was, Alfred clearly just wanted someone to whinge to about work, and Matthew was just glad he wouldn't have to do most of the talking himself.

"Do you want some tea?" Matthew asked, before mentally kicking himself for forgetting that Alfred didn't drink tea.

"Euch, naah! I'll have some coffee though, if you have some! Double espresso, with marshmallows... and cream... on the rocks, with whiskey! And a flake!" Alfred said, his voice slightly muffled by the cushion. Matthew looked blankly at him, trying to process the bizarre request. He was joking, clearly... right? Matthew couldn't be sure when Alfred's face was hidden.

"...Ummmm, no?" Matthew said cautiously, irrationally worried that Alfred's stupid drink request was serious. Alfred peeked over the top of the cushion, laughter in his eyes, and Matthew was relieved.

"Hehehe, ah well. Worth a shot! Dunno if it would've been drinkable though... but yeah, anyway - I would actually quite like a drink, please, Matt." He said, flipping the cushion over his head and leaning back on it so he could smile over at Matthew in the doorway.

"Heheh, okay. I do have some coffee, but I have hot chocolate too, for once... If you want that..." He didn't have to finish - Alfred grinned widely at him,

"Really!? Sweeeeet! Yeah, hot chocolate! Haven't had one in ages! You're the best, Mattie!" Alfred declared. Matthew smiled, laughing quietly,

"Okay, I'll be back in a bit. And you can rant as much as you want then." He said, continuing on up the hallway to the kitchen, a shout of 'Thank youuuuu~!' following him.

Matthew made Alfred's hot chocolate, and prepared a cup of lemon and ginger tea (a gift from Arthur received along with quite a number of other flavours) for himself. He debated having a hot chocolate too, but the tea just won out in the end; he'd developed rather a taste for the stuff after all his trips to Dreamweaver's. He made a brief scour of the kitchen cupboards in the vague hope that there would be some rogue marshmallows to surprise Alfred with, but unsurprisingly his search turned up empty, so he just picked up the two mugs and headed back to the lounge.

Alfred's excited bounce on the sofa as Matthew handed him his drink brought a smile to Matthew's face; his twin could be obnoxious at times, and he sometimes didn't quite click with him, but Matthew always felt glad when Alfred came to visit him and was always struck by the notion that they never really got to see each other often enough. It was just a shame that he had to turn down Arthur's invitation in order to see Alfred this time. Matthew's face fell slightly at that thought and briefly wondered whether Arthur was already up on the hill's peak, looking over the view. Could he see Matthew's house from there? But he couldn't ponder for long as he was quickly distracted by Alfred - there was never much time for introspection with him around.

"So, Matt! I have to tell you about what Ivan did today!" Alfred began intently, leaning forward and placing his hot chocolate (which he had just burned his mouth on by trying to drink it too soon) on the coffee table in front of him. Matthew, sat across from him in his favourite armchair, leaned back and sipped at his tea, regarding his brother with mild amusement. He'd wondered whether it had been Ivan, Alfred's co-worker whom he seemed to hate with a bizarre fervour. It was completely irrational, if you asked Matthew, and Ivan just seemed to be doing his job from what he could gather, but Alfred always talked about him like he'd been personally targeted by him to ruin his life, and Alfred had swiftly made him his nemesis.

"Go on then, Al, what did he do, eh?" Matthew said, indulging him as he always did.

" _Well_..!" Alfred began, clasping his hands together in the way that told Matthew he was going to be listening for a while, and started his tirade.

Matthew zoned out quite quickly, paying the barest minimum of attention in order to put in a quick 'Mmm...' or 'Oh no' or the like when Alfred paused for breath, just to show he was listening, and let Alfred vent. From what he could gather, Alfred had been working on a proposal for quite a number of weeks now which he had been trying to perfect; he thought he had kept it completely secret, but apparently Ivan had just submitted a finished version of a 'suspiciously similar' proposal that day, before Alfred could complete his. Alfred was, of course, incensed and absolutely convinced that Ivan had actively stolen his idea and taken all the credit for it. Matthew didn't listen to all the crazy conspiracy-level theories that Alfred came up with to try and theorise how Ivan had found out about his proposal, but he nodded sympathetically and tried to make his brother feel a bit better with some "that's awful"s and "yeah, it is very unfair"s. In actuality, Matthew was fairly certain that it was a complete coincidence: they had both come up with the same idea at the same time since there was an obvious and exploitable hole to fill, but Ivan had just finished his idea faster. They worked in product design, so of course if there was an easily profitable gap in the market then there would be a lot of people trying to supply that demand - whoever gets there first wins, essentially.

But, Matthew didn't say anything. If Alfred wanted to believe that Ivan was undermining him then fine, let him think that; having a rival at work definitely seemed to push Alfred to work harder anyway, so Matthew was content to just sit and listen to his twin's frustrations. He usually calmed down after complaining for a while, so it was just a matter of waiting it out.

"…- and he acts so smug all the time! It's like he doesn't even care; he knows he's stolen all my work and _still_ he's -…" he was still going. Matthew zoned out again, unable to feign interest any longer as he sipped his tea.

His thoughts began to wander and somehow they ended up back on Arthur. Had he found any new specimens for the shop? He wondered whether he was already back at Dreamweaver's with plants in hand. He checked his watch; it was barely two in the afternoon, so he imagined that, in fact, Arthur would probably be right in the middle of his walk. It was so early! It felt like Alfred had been talking for hours already, but no. Matthew smiled, imagining how Arthur might react to Alfred's rather self-pitying monologue; he'd probably scoff at him and tell him straight away what Matthew had decided to keep to himself about Alfred being simply paranoid about Ivan – ' _you're not the centre of the universe, so I can't imagine why Ivan's entire life and career must revolve around you. Don't be so self-important.' ..._ No, Arthur wouldn't be that cruel, surely, Matthew mentally berated himself. Plus, it wasn't good to think those things about his own brother, even under the guise of Arthur's voice. He frowned, bringing the tea back to his lips again and trying to rid his thoughts of such things. Alfred was trying his best, so Matthew shouldn't put him down, even in his own mind… right?

"…- You think so too, right, Matt!?" Alfred's diatribe suddenly cut through Matthew's hazy concentration and he jumped slightly as his attention snapped back to what Alfred was saying since it suddenly included his name!

"Eh? What, sorry? What was that?" Matthew stuttered, worried that Alfred would be annoyed at him for not listening. Alfred, however, didn't seem too upset by Matthew's apparent inattentiveness to his words, but his train of thought had definitely been diverted.

"Wow, Matt, you were like completely away with the fairies there." Alfred said, staring intently at Matthew's face, making him squirm a little under the scrutiny, "You alright, sleepyhead? Having trouble with insomnia again, or..?" Alfred trailed off, worry creeping into his voice.

Matthew smiled at his twin, touched by Alfred's concern for him and relieved that he wasn't being told off.

"No, no, I'm alright, Al. I'm sleeping really well recently, actually." He said quietly.

"Yeah? Oh man, that's so great, dude! I'm really happy to hear that. That wizard been helpin' you out properly then?" Alfred said, a grin on his face.

"Yeah, Arthur's been really great…" Matthew said simply, looking down into the remains of the tea that he had got from said wizard. He didn't know how to continue, so he didn't, but it wasn't even just the dreamless draughts anymore that Arthur had given him: he finally had someone else to talk to besides his own twin brother, and he had no idea how to articulate that sort of thing without sounding cheesy as all hell – Alfred would probably laugh at him.

"Hehe, I knew it! I knew he'd be able to help you out!" Alfred laughed, seemingly oblivious to Matthew's unsaid words. "Yannow, I didn't want to bring it up before, but you really are lookin' a lot better lately, bro. Like, so much happier and you don't look like you've been punched in both eyes… uh, no offense." Alfred grimaced, but Matthew just laughed at Alfred's choice of words. He didn't take any offense – he knew he'd looked like death before meeting Arthur.

"It's fine, Al." Matthew smiled, "I do feel much better, too. I don't really feel tired much anymore, I can concentrate better, and I've got so much more energy… the spell Arthur gave me really is brilliant, eh?" He finished with an awkward chuckle and downed the rest of his now cold tea.

"Yeah, dude! Aw man, I'm so glad I sent you to go see him. Yannow, I think this is the longest time you've held a job recently too, Matt! Things are lookin' up!"

"Yeah." Matthew sighed, thinking, "Thank you, Al. I dunno what would've happened if you hadn't been there last month and told me where to go."

"Dude, what? I sent you, like, two months ago now, man! Haha! You missin' a month somewhere?" Alfred laughed, raising an eyebrow at Matthew who frowned in confusion.

"Eh? Really? I could've sworn…" Matthew trailed off, trying to remember, "But the last time I saw you was last month… And that was when… when…" Alfred narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Dude, are you _sure_ you're feeling okay?" Alfred said, lowly, clear worry behind the slightly forced laughter in his voice, "I saw you, like, two weeks ago. I came to see you on your lunch break, Monday before last, remember?"

Matthew squinted in concentration. Yeah, that did ring a bell. That was only two weeks ago? Oh! Of course, he remembered; Alfred had brought him cheesecake and they'd tried to eat it while sat on that tiny brick wall and Alfred almost dropped his. Right? Or was that the time before that? No, no it was definitely last time.

"Yeah, I remember – sorry. Silly me, eh?" Matthew laughed nervously. Alfred's eyes narrowed further in suspicion.

"Maaaatt? You _are_ telling me the truth, right? You're not ill? You're getting enough sleep? You ain't just trying to stop me from worrying, right?" He pressed intently.

"No! I mean yes. I mean… really, Al. It's the truth – I've never slept better, and I'm fine. My memory is just terrible is all; you don't have to worry!" Matthew replied, trying to inject as much sincerity and reassurance into his voice as possible – it _was_ the truth, after all: he was sleeping just fine. Nothing was wrong. Alfred squinted at him for a moment longer, seemingly trying to detect any hint of a lie, but he quickly relaxed and smiled again, apologetically.

"Alright, Mattie, I believe you. I'm sorry. But… you know… I worry about my baby bro... yannow." Alfred said sheepishly and Matthew laughed,

"Yes, Al. I know." He shifted in his seat slightly, trying to shake the niggling feeling that something was wrong, "So… it's been two months already, eh? Time sure does fly." He mused lightly, trying to bring them back into less confrontational territory.

"Yeah, man, it really does! I swear it just feels like yesterday that you were still living like, almost next door to me. That's almost half a _year_ ago now, bro! Like, that's nuts!" Alfred offered back, and Matthew was thankful that Alfred was willing to let the topic change.

"Yeah, I used to see you much more often back then. I miss you now, bro, you're always so far away." Matthew confessed, trying to make it sound light-hearted, though really he was only half joking.

"Oh no, Mattie, don't say things like that or you'll make me cry!" Alfred whined, making a comically fake sniff and pretending to wipe away a tear. Matthew laughed softly,

"Hehe oh shush, I'm just teasing." He said.

"Yeah… Buuuut, since it's been 'so long', how about we play some o' those good ol' Video Games in memory of the old days?" Alfred said with a playful wink, practically launching out of his chair to turn on the TV and choose which game to play.

"Pff, the 'old days' of half a year ago, eh? Good grief, Al." Matthew snickered, amused by his brother's terrible segue into getting them to play games together – it would be some sort of fighting game, no doubt. He was happy to play along, though; he enjoyed their irregular tournaments just as much as Alfred did, though Alfred could definitely keep playing for far longer that Matthew ever could and would switch to AI opponents when Matthew got tired.

Matthew watched his twin set up the game as he sat and reflected. He told himself not to worry about the memory incident, but it had been embarrassing to be so completely wrong about what had actually happened. There was something very frustrating about being told that what you recall is wrong, and Matthew wished that he hadn't said anything in the end. He couldn't believe he'd managed to mix up three separate occasions and completely misjudge the timespan. It was just annoying, more than anything else.

Alfred returned from the TV and passed Matthew his controller, and Matthew decided to stop thinking about it. It was silly to fret over one little mistake, and it's not like there was anything wrong with him. It was just a stupid, forgetful mistake.

"I am gonna whoop you so hard, dude." Alfred said, grinning and settling himself down on the sofa again. Matthew grinned back. Oh it was on! No time to think about anything else now!

"We'll see." He said simply, and selected his character.

* * *

Having opted out from further games after winning their final match with 14 total wins to Alfred's 16, Matthew had swapped places with Alfred and was now lying on the sofa watching his brother beat the AI into the ground. It had been a very close tournament, with both of them taking the lead and then falling behind multiple times, but Matthew decided he wasn't really bothered to win over all and gave up on closing the three win lead that Alfred had gained - he made sure to win the final game, though, so that Alfred couldn't call him salty.

Matthew rubbed his face sleepily into the cushion, a contented smile on his face as he enjoyed the passive presence of his twin; it was far from silent, what with Alfred constantly taunting and swearing at the AI opponents, but it was still good, undemanding company. He glanced at the window briefly as Alfred swore colourfully and lost a round, and he noticed the daylight had faded quite considerably. He looked up at the clock on the mantelpiece and saw that it was going on 9 O' clock!

"Al? It's getting late, you gonna head back soon?" Matthew inquired. Alfred paused the game quickly and looked up at the clock as well at Matthew's words.

"Ah shit, yeah! Damn, that time went so fast - Jeez!" Alfred exclaimed in bemusement. "Damnit I wanna stay longer!" He complained, looking around to Matthew who was just sitting up and trying to flatten down the rogue curl of hair put out of place by the cushion.

"Haha, well you are more than welcome to stay the night if you really want to." Matthew replied with a smile. Alfred made a face,

"Yeah, I wish I could. Thanks Matt, but I've got stuff to do tomorrow so I'd better get back home tonight." He said, looking slightly dejected. "Oh, and I also planned to stop by that wizard's place on my way home too! Ach, I almost forgot - d'you think it'll still be open?" Alfred looked pensively at Matthew, waiting for his opinion.

Matthew's brow furrowed in thought - well, usually the shop wouldn't be open this late, but since Arthur would have been out on the walk then he may have had more work to do and would still be in the shop? He should be back by now, anyway, and he might be keeping the shop open late to make up for being closed earlier and to sort out the new plants? Maybe?

"I'm not sure." he answered honestly, "Probably not, but it might be worth a shot, eh? Arthur was out earlier today so he might still be in the shop now, but I wouldn't get my hopes up - he usually closes up a lot earlier than this." Alfred grimaced and scratched the back of his neck.

"Ah, hell. Well, I guess I can roll by and see if the lights are on - it's only a small diversion." He grumbled.

"Sorry, Al, I should've noticed the time sooner." Matthew said sadly, and Alfred looked at him in surprise, the annoyed expression dropping from his face,

"Dude, it's fine - you didn't... it's not _your_ fault! I mean..." Alfred stammered, a guilty look in his eye over making Matthew feel the need to take the blame, "It's not like I told you I was going on my way back, so don't sweat it. This is all on me, yo!" He finished with finality, leaving no room to argue. Matthew smiled slightly, his eyes crinkling at his brother, and Alfred beamed back at him. "Anyway, dude, I guess I better go." He sighed, and Matthew nodded.

The two of them rose in unison and Matthew followed his brother to the front door in companionable silence. He reached to the bowl on the side to retrieve the keys and unlocked the door as Alfred slipped his shoes on in the hallway behind him.

"Right then," said Alfred, as he finished tying the laces and reached for his coat, "I guess I'll see ya next time, bro." He draped the coat over his arm and regarded Matthew with a lopsided smirk.

"Yeah. It was nice seeing you, Al." Matthew said, returning the smile. Alfred grinned, and became suddenly animated, sweeping Matthew into the customary bear hug he used for farewells. Matthew laughed and held on until it was over, patting Alfred on the back awkwardly in his winded state. He coughed once when Alfred released him, and opened the door. "Safe journey, eh? Let me know when you get back home."

"Will do, Mattie!" Alfred replied with a salute, "Thanks for having me over - and we need to have a rematch next time! You probably could've won if you'd been in practice, and you know that don't sit right with me." He said with a wink, making Matthew chuckle.

"Haha, alright. I'll try and brush up on my skills before then so it's a 'fair match'." Matthew said, giving Alfred a playful push on the shoulder to get him moving out the door. Alfred laughed, backing up down the front path towards his car.

"I'll look forward to it! Laters, dude!" He shouted, waving and getting into the drivers seat. Matthew waved back.

"Yeah, me too, bro. Bye." He said, but the car door was already slamming shut, so he only said it quietly.

He waved until Alfred had driven round the corner and out of sight, before closing and relocking the front door. Key safely back in the dish, he traipsed back to the living room feeling thoroughly exhausted, but content. The multicoloured glow of the television painted the walls of the now darkened room with the light of the pause screen, and Matthew regarded the silent scene with a small pang in his chest. He couldn't quite focus on or identify the source of this unexpected melancholy, but he just knew that he felt very tired. He didn't even bother turning the light on as he went to turn off the game and the TV, and he climbed the stairs to the bedroom in total blackness.

He didn't care that it was still early, he just wanted to go to sleep. As he dazedly went through the motions of getting ready for bed, his mind wandered to Arthur yet again. Was he still in the shop as he'd wondered before? Would Alfred find him still there, working away in that plant-packed space? What had he found on his walk? Matthew was excited to hear about it the next time he visited.

It did not take long for Matthew to fall asleep with the help of the vial he always kept on his bedside table; he lay there, face down in the pillow, smiling softly as he thought about when his next visit to Dreamweaver's might be. The moon gleamed through the small gap in the curtains, cutting through the dark of the room to reflect off the vial held slackly in Matthew's hand. The flower within began to glow a soft golden colour as Matthew fell into unconsciousness, the petals unfurling and seeming to expand and grow, reaching out towards the sides of the small bottle then recoiling as they touched the enchanted glass. Matthew breathed deeply as he enjoyed yet another dreamless, undisturbed night.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you so much for waiting, dear readers. :D This chapter has gone through so many revisions that I think it's about time to move on now, I hope it was worth the wait! ;u; Thank you all for such kind reviews - you really are too nice to a slowpoke like me. 3 I shall see you again soon with the next chapter~!**


	7. Chapter 7

**_Chapter 7_**

The door of the shop rattled loudly, and Arthur gave a start, jerking back to full wakefulness where he'd been sat dozing at the counter of Dreamweaver's. He glanced down at his watch and eyed the door suspiciously through the dense foliage of the central display; it was almost 10 o' clock, so who could possibly be trying to get in?

"Hello? Anyone there?" came a muffled call through the wood of the door, followed by several loud knocks. Arthur sighed heavily but relaxed – he recognised the voice: it was one of his less regular customers, Alfred Jones. He did _not_ want to be dealing with him now, though, and seriously considered just ignoring him.

"Helloooo? C'mon man, the lights are on! You there? Arthur?" Alfred persisted, knocking on the door again. Arthur took a deep breath and sighed again, knowing that despite the 'Closed' sign in clear line of sight, the persistent American would not be dissuaded for a long time, and Arthur didn't want to put up with the noise for that long. He resigned himself to his fate and decided he would just have to see what Alfred wanted and try to get him back out again as quickly as possible.

"Hello? Aaaarthur! Artie! Art-man! C'mon! I came all this way and everything, you're not just gonna – " but the end of his sentence was aborted in favour of a rather undignified squeal as Arthur whipped the door open and caused Alfred to jump in surprise. He cleared his throat, desperately trying to cover his embarrassment and pretend that his voice hadn't peaked a full octave above its usual level.

"Hello, Alfred." Arthur said calmly, deciding not to comment and allowing Alfred to keep his dignity – as tempting as it was to tease him, it just wasn't worth the time at the moment. "What can I do for you this evening? It is rather late for visitors, you know." He admonished lightly, wearing his most impassive business smile. He hoped that Alfred would infer that he wanted him to get to the point quickly and leave him for the night, but sadly such subtle implications were lost on the man.

"Dude, I'm so glad you're still here, I thought I'd have to come back tomorrow or something!" Alfred said jovially, clearly over his embarrassment. Arthur rolled his eyes slightly and gritted his teeth against an angry retort that he should just come tomorrow if he'd expected to be turned away. He huffed in annoyance instead, his green gaze fixed on Alfred's obviously unmoved expression.

"…Come in then." He said, finally, turning to walk resignedly back into the shop, beckoning Alfred to follow him, "And shut the door after you."

"Thanks, man." said Alfred, and Arthur heard the bell chime and the click of the door as Alfred actually did what he asked. He waved dismissively with his hand without turning around, and seated himself back at the counter, finally looking at his customer again as Alfred approached the other side. He propped his chin upon his hand and regarded the uncharacteristically silent American.

"I hope what you're here for is important. We _are_ closed, you know." Arthur said directly, deciding that delicacy was not helpful when it came to Alfred. But Alfred was as unfazed as ever, continuing like he couldn't even hear the frustration in Arthur's voice.

"Yeah, that's why I figured I'd come check – I wanted to come earlier, but I was at my brother's place and time just sorta got away from us, so he said you might still be here since you were… uh, out somewhere earlier? So I figured 'it's worth a shot', so - " Arthur held up a hand to interrupt the constant stream of information bombarding him, and tried to catch up.

"Okay, okay, hold on a minute there. How did your brother know I was out today? I only told one person where…Wait..!" Suddenly a number of puzzle pieces came crashing together in his head, "You're _Matthew's_ brother!?" He asked incredulously, looking intently at Alfred's face and noticing the resemblance that he felt completely blind for not seeing before. " _You're_ Matthew's twin?"

"Yup! That's me!" Alfred beamed, "Mattie's been telling me how you've been hanging out, and how much you've helped him, so… thanks for looking after him, dude. For real – he's doing so much better and it… it means a lot." He continued, looking surprisingly sincere by the end. Suddenly Arthur was seeing this mildly annoying man in a whole new light. So this was the twin that Matthew thought so highly of, who was always there for him, and was his only companion for many years. The man that Arthur knew and the version that Matthew knew seemed completely incompatible in Arthur's mind, and yet they were the same person. It was nice to be able to put a face to some of the stories Matthew had told him, even if it might take some time to reconcile that with how he saw Alfred.

Arthur watched Alfred intently for a few, lengthy moments. Alfred waited, smiling benignly, and Arthur suddenly laughed.

"Hah! Interesting." He barked, leaning back and relaxing, "Your brother is a good man, Alfred, and I'm glad to be able to help him. But, considering the time, we had best move on from idle chitchat, no? What is it you need?" He said, very little frustration remaining in his voice; he felt much more inclined to help Alfred now he knew his relation to Matthew, even if it was terribly biased thinking. But Alfred didn't have to know that.

"Right! Right, yeah." Alfred said, nodding as he was prompted back on track, "So, I've been thinking: you can do pretty much anything to do with sleep, right?" He said in a more hushed voice than usual, and Arthur raised an eyebrow, giving one slow nod and questioning where this was going. "Well, I was wondering if you could make me… a nightmare." He concluded, conspiratorially, his eyes determined as they met Arthur's.

Arthur froze and felt his heart beat hard in his chest, all thoughts of family relations driven from his head. A Nightmare. It wasn't something he'd ever done before, but he knew the theory, and it had been a forbidden avenue of his magical pursuits since his master had found him sneaking looks through her personal spell books about Black Lullamancy. You weren't actually supposed to put those spells into practice, she had said to him, and the dangers of such magic could hurt someone. But he had never lost his curiosity, though it had been dampened by fear after that incident, and he had always been fascinated by the power that had been hinted at in those books.

He could still remember the opening words of the first book he had found: "Tread not the darkness, ye mere apprentice, for the power within will consume all but the brightest light. Though, should thou have might yourself, borrow of this power, learn to use your light to control the darkness, and find strength. These pages will teach you the safe ways through the paths paved with Black." Arthur had read pages and pages of spells and potions, understanding very little of it for he was still the apprentice the book warned to turn back. But he was older now, and much, much stronger; he had considerable power, and he was certain he would be able to withstand the darkness now. Surely! It was a whole side to Lullamancy left unexplored, and Arthur felt the thrill of discovery and experimentation kindle within him. It was a chance to learn, and be immersed back in the power of his magic, the very thing that he had been hoping for!

But there was also the question of why Alfred would want to inflict a Nightmare upon someone. Perhaps he didn't know exactly what it was he was asking Arthur to do, but he must have some intent to do harm since even naturally born nightmares are never a good thing. Arthur realised he had been staring very hard at Alfred for quite some time as his mind raced, and he watched Alfred shift uncomfortably though he never lost the determination in his face. The silence stretched on as Arthur considered him. He was Matthew's twin. Matthew had told Arthur that his twin was a good person - he cared very deeply, especially about Matthew. Matthew trusted him. Arthur decided that this meant he could trust Alfred too. Though he still felt it prudent to check…

"Why do you want something like that, Alfred?" Arthur finally said, his voice low and serious. Alfred breathed out heavily, possibly worried that Arthur was just going to say no.

"I want to spook my colleague, Ivan." He said.

"Spook? You want a Nightmare so you can… 'spook' someone!?" Arthur asked incredulously.

"Well… it's not fair that he gets to sleep at night after all the stuff he's done." Alfred said sulkily, and Arthur frowned.

"So you're after revenge, is that it?"

"No! Well… kinda. I guess. But not really – he's been stealing ideas at work, and not just mine! He's got someone fired before and I think he lied to do that. And he's got three assistants who he torments non-stop; one time he had them work overtime without pay for a week, while he went home early and - "

"Stop." Arthur said, closing his eyes and waiting for the stream of exposition to cease. "So, this… Ivan, has been doing bad things and you are taking it upon yourself to bestow vigilante justice upon him. Okay. Why a Nightmare? Do you have no better options?" He asked. Alfred looked away, finally appearing unsure of himself.

"Well… I couldn't think of anything else. I can't report him since I don't have enough concrete evidence… and he'd notice if I did anything in the daytime. But if it's nightmares, and he just can't sleep well, then he wouldn't be able to link it to me. And… and maybe he'd stop being able to treat everyone like… maybe he'd stop being… like that." He finished lamely.

Arthur sighed. He wondered briefly whether he would regret making a Nightmare for such a tenuous reason, but the lure of fresh magic was too strong. It was untapped potential, a new frontier, and he'd be able to help out Matthew's brother along the way. His mind was made up, possibly before he'd even consciously decided it, and the simmering excitement finally broke free. Wasting no further time, Arthur sprang to his feet, an enigmatic smirk adorning his features.

"Let's get started then." He stated, surprising Alfred out of his self-doubting expression, and sweeping off to the lab, calling "Just wait there for a moment, Alfred, I'll be back."

* * *

Arthur smiled victoriously. Several books lay strewn on the desk, all useless for what he needed, but at long last he had found a dirty tome in the back of the cabinet that contained detailed transcriptions of Black Lullamancy spells. He flicked through the rough pages, the fae script flashing in the ethereal light of the lab. And there it was: the Nightmare spell. He scanned the words and illustrations with anticipation, and upon reaching the bottom of the page he practically flew out of the room, eager and ready to get started. It had confirmed what he remembered about the Nightmares, and he was confident he would be able to succeed.

The spell was simple enough, though it required time to make. The book described the spelled Nightmare as an imitation or copy of a naturally occurring nightmare, which feeds off the target's fears in order to grow stronger. But, where natural nightmares have roots in the dreamscape which get cut off when the dreamer awakens, the artificial Nightmare has its source in the conscious world, and so will persist night after night until said source dies. In essence, the spell was like a seed planted in the mind which grows and changes to suit the host; it was nothing like crafting dreams where the dream itself had to be designed and drawn from the dreamscape, instead it shaped itself uniquely and adapted to the dreamer. It was fascinating.

There were just two ingredients: a single white lily, and something to link the spell to the target, whether it be tangible or intangible. The easiest link to make would be using a solid object belonging to the target, or part of the target's body like a hair, but it didn't have to be a physical entity in order for it to work just as well. There were many examples of how to forge an intangible link given in the book, and Arthur felt the best one to use in this scenario would be a Grudge. Since Alfred was the one to bear the ill will against Ivan, the host, he would have to be the one to perform that part of the spell. With a small start Arthur realised that this would probably mean Alfred would have to enter the lab, making him the only other person aside from Matthew to ever join him in the room. Arthur couldn't decipher exactly how that made him feel, but he thought it was somehow fitting that only Matthew's twin could get to that same point.

Shaking his head, Arthur returned to the shop bedecked in his cloak, and headed for the lilies. He smiled fondly at the speedwell in the hanging baskets as he passed them, happy that he'd decided to plant more – Matthew had seemed happy when he saw them. He selected the most pristine white lily he could find among the elegant bouquets, and carried it to Alfred's side.

"Alfred. This is what we are going to use to make your Nightmare, but I need you to take part in the spell." Arthur said hurriedly, keen to continue quickly. Alfred's eyes widened in surprise and perhaps some fear, but Arthur continued to explain before he could say anything, "We need to link the Nightmare to Ivan so we need something that 'belongs' to him, or 'relates' to him somehow, and the Grudge you hold against him is the best option we have."

"It's not a… grudge." Alfred mumbled uncomfortably, but Arthur brushed him off.

"Ah it's just the name of it, it just means there's an unresolved conflict between the two of you and we can use that open connection to link the Nightmare to him. So, I'll need you to join me in the Lab; all you will need to do is hold the lily and think about your Grudge… uh, your intended justice for Ivan."

"Okay…" Alfred said slowly, his confidence gathering, "Alright, yeah, I can do that."

"Marvellous." Arthur exclaimed, handing the lily delicately to Alfred who took it with both hands. "This way, then."

He held the door open for Alfred who walked inside, and then stopped so abruptly that Arthur walked into the back of him.

"Oof! Alfred, please don't do that again." Arthur grumbled, and Alfred nodded mutely, "Right, centre of the circle there please, Alfred, and hold the lily out in front of you above the very middle." Alfred complied, still without saying a word. This struck Arthur as a little odd, but mostly he was just grateful that Alfred was following the instructions and not visibly freaking out about the lab. "Okay. Now think of Ivan, and I shall begin."

An interesting thing about daydream asylums was that they could take thoughts from your head and show glimpses of them in the miasma around you. It was useful for crafting dreams, and if you wanted to preview the sights or arrange the dream visually around you. Arthur watched as the cloudy shapes that had started circling Alfred's head began to coalesce and show fractional glimpses of a man. The image was constantly changing and flickering as all of Alfred's ideas of what it was supposed to look like tried to overlap, but certain things always stayed the same: there was a scarf, and a serene smile, and violet eyes, and very pale blond hair. And there was also a distinct aura of distaste around him which showed clearly how Alfred viewed this man. This must be Ivan, Arthur thought, and stepped forward to raise his wand before Alfred could lose his focus.

He concentrated, and let himself fall further into the dreamscape than he would usually go, just as the book had instructed, searching for the layer where the nightmares dwelt. He used his wand as an anchor in front of him, his lifeline, and kept his eyes fixed on the point, unseeing, ready to snap back to himself at the first sign of danger. He cast about with his mind looking for a newer, weaker nightmare that he could temporarily overpower while hiding his presence from the older nightmares, the Primal fears, that the book had warned about. He finally found one just snapping back to the dreamscape as its most recent victim awoke somewhere in the world. Now he needed to be quick, for this would be highly taxing on his reserves of energy and concentration. He took a deep, meditative breath and struck.

He grasped the nightmare with a surge of energy and focussed on subduing it long enough to learn its feel, its shape, its pattern, and as he did so he began to cast the spell. He bent the images of Ivan, the Grudge, and changed them, morphing them to mimic the nightmare, and forcing them into the lily that Alfred held. His brow furrowed in concentration and sweat began to roll down his face with the effort. The nightmare was stronger than he could have imagined, and trying to focus on holding it, copying it, and hiding from others at the same time was becoming too much. There was the elation and excitement as he revelled in his ability, true, but fear was creeping in as the time stretched on and on without the spell completing. He had to go faster, or one of his holds would break. He tightened his grip on the wand, feeling the exertion as the mental equivalent of trying to pack ever expanding foam into a shrinking canister by hand, as he tried to trap the new Nightmare inside the lily.

He squinted at the flower, willing the spell into completion, and watched as the clear white of the lily became blotched with red and yellow which gradually spread to cover and obliterate the last of the snowy patches on the petals, until at last the Nightmare was complete and encased inside a vibrantly orange lily. Arthur gasped at the release as he dropped his hold on the nightmare which slipped away back into the dreamscape, and he ricocheted back to the comfortable limbo between reality and unreality. The spell complete, he lowered his wand, hands shaking with exhilaration as his body recovered from using so much power at once. He trembled and laughed, relief and pride flooding through him. He'd done it! He'd bested the Nightmare! He'd triumphed with flying colours!

Alfred still stood there blankly, holding the lily which was losing its shining colour and rapidly darkening to a deep, pitch black. Arthur walked forward and peered into the man's unusually glassy eyes, unable to ignore his concern any longer. He waved a hand in front of Alfred's face to no response, and took the lily from his hand with no resistance. Eventually he noticed the deep, even breathing and it dawned on him: Alfred was asleep. Arthur frowned. He hadn't expected that at all. Perhaps the atmosphere in the lab had affected the man? It was something to ponder later, Arthur decided, but for now he had to bring Alfred back into the real world and wake him up so he could pay for the Nightmare properly.

* * *

"So… I just fell asleep?" A confused Alfred drowsily asked, rubbing his eyes as Arthur explained what had happened.

"Yes, that's right. I suspect you nodded off right as we entered the lab; I think it was too much for you." Arthur smirked, patting Alfred on the back. Alfred groaned into his hands in response and Arthur chuckled. "Well, no matter. You still played your part admirably, for a sleepwalker, and your Nightmare is complete." Arthur handed over the dark lily, Alfred lifting his head from his hands to look at the flower.

"…That's the Nightmare?" He said, reaching out for it. Arthur nodded and the lily changed hands in an instant.

"Keep it healthy and the nightmare within will grow stronger up until the Lily shrivels. That's when it is time to return it to me and I will renew the spell. Also, the closer to Ivan it is, the stronger the link will grow, though that isn't vital for the spell to function." Arthur explained, and Alfred nodded dazedly, gazing at the black flower.

"Are you sure it will work..? It doesn't… look very impressive." Alfred said uncertainly. Arthur scoffed,

"'It doesn't look very –'? Pshh! Excuse you! What you hold there is one of the most powerful spells I have ever crafted! 'Will it work?' indeed! Pah! You can't be very trusting if you don't trust the work of a master craftsman." He chided. Alfred laughed,

"Haha! Yeah, sorry, sorry! You're right." Then he realised something and groaned again, "Ohhhh no, that means it's gonna be expensive too, huh?"

"You read my mind, good sir." Arthur replied with a toothy grin.

"Oh maaaaan! I only brought enough to cover the usual cost that you charge for dreams. You really should start taking card payments, Artie, you're stuck in the last century or something." He grumbled. Arthur ignored his comment, not wanting to explain his reasoning to a man who wouldn't care anyway.

"Hmmmm… well then, tell you what, pay me that now as a down payment, and you'll owe me double that again when you next visit." He said with a wink, smiling wider at the look of dismay on Alfred's face.

" _Double again!?_ Arthuuuuur!" He whined, but Arthur just met his gaze with a raised eyebrow. "Uuugh, fine. That's fair, I'll bring you the rest sometime next week." He said as he dug for his wallet and emptied all the cash within it into Arthur's waiting palm.

"Thank you kindly, fair customer. Now please… please go home; have you seen the time!?"

Alfred looked around sharply, searching for a clock, before digging in his pocket for his phone.

"Holy hell! Three in the morning!?" He shouted, "Oh crap, I'd better go! Thanks a million, though, Arthur, I owe you big time for this!" He said sincerely, gesturing to the Nightmare in his hand as he backed towards the door.

"Yes, yes, be careful with that. I hope your vigilantism comes to fruition." Arthur said wryly, waving at his retreating customer and biting back a yawn.

"Thanks! Later, dude!" Alfred called over the chime of the door, and then he was gone. Arthur sighed, slumping with exhaustion. What a long day it had been, he mused. Only that day he had been out traversing the hills and woods collecting cuttings, and now here he was in the wee hours of the morning dabbling in Black magic. Oh how one's fate can so swiftly change. He was broken from his reverie by Alfred returning like a whirlwind, the door slamming open and making him jump.

"Yo, I almost forgot - I meant to ask you," Alfred panted, evidently having run back to the shop, "Have you noticed anything… uh… _strange_ about Mattie lately? Like…" he ground his teeth as he thought for the words "…he mentions things that happened but at the wrong time? And… forgetting stuff?" Arthur frowned at him, completely blindsided by this unexpected stream of questioning about Matthew.

"Um… no? I don't… recall anything like that." Arthur said carefully.

"Oh. It just seemed… you're sure? I wondered if it might be something to do with the… the spell you made for him, I dunno." Arthur's eyes narrowed angrily at this. What, did Alfred think he was still an apprentice? He knew what he was doing, so whatever Alfred was accusing him of was just insulting. He could trap nightmares, for god's sake, so he could control a simple sleeping spell!

"No." He said coldly, "It's not. Are you sure you aren't seeing things that aren't there? You're probably worrying over nothing." He spat out. Even Alfred couldn't miss the obvious signs of the nerve he'd hit, and at least he had the good grace to look sheepish.

"Sorry, Arthur, I didn't mean…" He rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm just worried about him you know. If something happened to Matthew I don't know what I'd do." Arthur took a calming breath, and his eyes softened. Yeah, he could understand that.

"No, I'm sorry too – I shouldn't have gotten angry." He conceded "I'm sure Matthew is fine, Alfred. But I'll… keep an eye on him, I promise." This seemed to placate the man.

"Thanks, Artie! Alright, see ya."

"Safe travels."

Finally the shop was empty save for the wizard and his sparrow lodger. Arthur stretched, yawning deeply, and switched the light off as he made his way to the stair that lead up to his home, looking forward to a long lie in the next day. In the dark of the shop, the sparrow flitted between baskets, clearly agitated and restless. Suddenly the tiny bird made a beeline for the skylight, its usual exit point, only to find a closed window in its way. It collided with a thump, unable to leave, and it lay dazed amid a basket of larkspur. An owl hooted in the distance, and the moon shined on impassively, bathing the dark town in silver and glinting in the stunned bird's eye.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello again! I'm back. Thank you all so much for being patient, and again for the lovely reviews! It makes me happy to see people excited over the story; this chapter was a horrific source of writer's block, but it really made it worthwhile to push through it. n_n I'll be back with the next one as soon as I can! Happy reading, my friends! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

Several days passed relatively uneventfully. Arthur was pleased to have Matthew returning to the shop on Monday, and he showed him the cuttings and new plants he had gathered on his walk, much to Matthew's evident delight. They talked about the usual things, and Matthew continued to come to the shop after work as normal for the rest of the week. Nothing seemed wrong, but Arthur was true to his word and kept a close eye on Matthew regardless. Arthur was not so foolish as to dismiss the words of a concerned twin brother.

He didn't notice anything at first, but gradually as they engaged in more and more conversation over the week, Arthur did recognise that there was something… unusual about his friend. Matthew would occasionally seem to forget parts of conversations they'd had the previous day and would ask him the same questions again, and sometimes Matthew's eyes would wander about the shop as though he were watching the sparrow flitting between the baskets, but when Arthur would turn to follow his line of sight there was nothing there. It was odd, but it happened very infrequently and if Arthur hadn't been watching out for it he would have missed it entirely. It didn't really seem like much cause for concern, though, especially since Matthew seemed perfectly fine in every other aspect. He disregarded it, for the most part.

Friday came around, and Matthew was sat on a stool in a corner of the shop, reading a book that Arthur had lent him about the language of flowers. Arthur himself was tending to the shop, watering and pruning, sweeping away dead leaves and preparing bouquets for display. They were both enjoying the pleasant atmosphere of the shop, and the contented quiet between them, disturbed only by turning pages, Arthur bustling about, and the ever-present trickle of water. Arthur set a number of plants about the counter, and began to prepare for creating a new bouquet. He regarded his flowers carefully, trying to visualise what the final arrangement would look like. A brief thought flitted through his mind on what Matthew would want to see in a bouquet. He glanced over to where Matthew was sat, and suddenly froze, struck by the sight.

Matthew was surrounded by bright red and yellow camellias, framed like a painting, a shaft of sunlight falling perfectly over him to illuminate his golden hair and sparkling blue eyes. His face was set in a serene half smile that seemed to make his whole visage glow from within. A curl of hair that sprang from the top of his head drifted over his face in a light breeze, and he swept it back with a small sigh, shifting on the stool to cross one leg over the other, then continued his perusal of the book in his lap. Arthur swallowed and made himself look back at the roses on the desk in front of him, his heart doing flips all of a sudden. He knew that Matthew was important to him, he was the only person aside from his own teacher he'd actually been able to spend time with. He liked Matthew a lot, he was gentle and kind, and he only ever made Arthur feel happy when he was around, and up until now Arthur had thought of him as the best friend he had ever had – the _only_ friend he had ever had, really. But now he wondered whether it was something else entirely. Matthew had looked _beautiful_ to Arthur just then, quite literally stunning! He shouldn't feel that way about just a friend.

A thorn jabbed into Arthur's thumb and he winced. He brought his wounded hand to his mouth to lick the blood away and glanced back at Matthew as he did so. He looked at the quiet, unobtrusive man and his stomach felt full of hundreds of copies of the fluttering sparrow. He hadn't even noticed these feelings growing; like a wind-borne seed finally sprouting and showing its head above the soil, suddenly his heart was home to feelings he hadn't even known were planted there! But despite the disbelief, Arthur couldn't deny the ache in his chest, and the unexpected realisation that he may very well be… in love?

Arthur shook his head vigorously, his face heating up and dying itself scarlet with embarrassment. No, no, no, surely not! It can't be love, can it? He hurriedly placed the roses into the vase, trying to distract his train of thought somewhat, but his eyes kept flicking back to the figure in the corner, and his mind kept circling around the question: so what was it he felt for Matthew? He could easily admit to himself that Matthew was handsome, smart, kind and just basically one of the nicest people he had ever met, but did that mean he liked him in that way? He just didn't know, but Matthew was special to him… so maybe… But there was also the question of what Matthew felt for him too. He didn't want to overstep his bounds and make Matthew uncomfortable. Oh god, what if he drove Matthew away by accident? He felt a cold shiver run through him as that thought hit him. If Matthew didn't feel the same way… he could ruin everything by telling him, and he would lose the person that meant the most to him in the world. Again.

A quiet thump suddenly drew his attention to the skylight. He didn't move for a split second of confusion, and then immediately he was diving across the room in a panic, grasping for the pole to open the window. The sparrow was flapping desperately at the closed exit, clearly trapped in the shop. Arthur reached up with the pole, absolutely shocked at himself for neglecting to leave the skylight open for the bird, and it flew out of the way to perch on the spell book Arthur had left on his chair behind the counter. It looked dishevelled and uncomfortable as it sat there waiting for the way to be cleared, and immediately it sped out of the window when Arthur drew the pole back out of the way. Arthur stood there for a moment, a feeling of dread in his stomach that he couldn't dismiss.

He looked over to the book the bird had perched on. It almost felt like an omen. One bad thing leading into the next. Arthur gulped, leaning the pole back against the wall, and warily approached the desk. He placed the spell book upon it. Everything seemed to lose definition, with the world seemingly muted and unimportant, as Arthur focussed on the book; it was the tome that contained the Dreamless Draught. Arthur tried to quell his nerves, tried to tell himself it was superstitious and silly and there was nothing wrong, but he was a wizard and he could tell when a sign shouldn't be ignored. He flicked through the book, finding the pages on the Draught easily, and began to read them again, just as he had those many weeks ago. Except this time he didn't skim, and he did not stop. He read far more text than he remembered there being. It continued on to the next page. His face grew darker with every passing word, and he clutched the book tightly. Oh no.

His knuckles were white and his blood felt cold in his veins when he finally put the book down. How could he have been so stupid!? Of course there was a catch! It was magic, why wouldn't there be? He felt his eyes sting with shame. He could already see Matthew's face, warped in anger and disgust all aimed at him for his mistake, and felt his heart twist in anguish. He gritted his teeth, fingers clawing at his chest. No! No, surely it wasn't too late. The symptoms weren't that bad yet, maybe there was still time. And Matthew wouldn't have to find out. He wouldn't have to know just how badly Arthur had betrayed his trust. He couldn't bear to lose Matthew, and he desperately hoped that he hadn't done as much damage as he feared. If he had even _accidentally_ hurt Matthew… but he tried not to think about it; there was still hope. If Matthew stopped taking the Draught right now, then it might still be okay. It would be okay.

Arthur took a shaky breath, slowly unclenching his hands and trying to still the shivers running through them. He had to be normal. Act normal. Don't let Matthew know there's something wrong, don't worry him unnecessarily…

"Hey, Matthew?" He called, his voice surprisingly steady. Matthew looked up from the book, slightly startled, making a short noise of acknowledgement. "You're due a refill on the sleeping draught, but… I won't be making them for you anymore." Arthur internally berated himself for his wording, hastily trying to clarify himself at the shocked and worried look that flashed across Matthew's features, "I mean, you can't take them forever, right? And… I think it's best that you at least try to sleep without them for a while. Try to see if it's gotten any better, you know?" Matthew looked thoughtful for a moment, before smiling at him.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. It would be impossible to take them for the rest of my life. Well, not impossible I suppose, but I don't want to have to impose on you for it all the time." He chuckled lightly. Arthur's gut clenched with guilt; of all things, Matthew was worried about troubling _him_!? Tears pricked at his eyes again, but he forced them back, maintaining his composed and casual façade.

"Well, it's not really any trouble, you know. It's just time to stop using it." He smiled at Matthew, hoping the smile reached his eyes and didn't look as forced as it was.

"Yeah. It would be nice if I could sleep without it." Matthew replied with another laugh, "It's really helped me though, so… thank you, Arthur." He said quietly, his smile dazzlingly bright.

"Don't thank me." Arthur said in a low, choked voice before he could stop himself. It hurt even more when Matthew thanked him for the very thing he should despise him for. "Really." He continued, forcing himself into a brighter tone, "It was… my pleasure. Just don't forget to visit still, okay?" Arthur finished with a half-hearted wink. Matthew snickered.

"Don't worry. You're my friend; of course I will. I really like hanging out with you, Arthur." Matthew replied sincerely, causing Arthur's stomach to flip uncomfortably.

"Heh… well, if you put it like that…" Arthur smiled.

The two of them returned to their mute companionship. Arthur finished the bouquet with his heart in chaos, and considered just throwing the finished product away; it was a mess, with some too short and some too long stems, an overabundance of certain flowers and not enough leaf. But he merely sighed and placed the failed piece at the very back of the display, hiding it among the others. It felt a waste to throw such good flowers away, even when the arrangement was poor.

He couldn't concentrate on any more work that afternoon, and was glad that he had finished the important things in the morning. Tea was about the only task he could accomplish properly, so he made himself and Matthew a cup of juniper tea each which they drank in silence. Matthew continued to read, and Arthur watched him over his cup. He thought about the times when Matthew hadn't been in the shop almost every day; he didn't think he'd be able to go back to those times now. His heart thumped hard against his ribs. Yes, Matthew was very important to Arthur. He was special. But right then it didn't matter exactly what this amounted to, because he could be certain of one thing: he fervently wanted to protect him, and he was _going_ to protect him regardless. Even if what he needed protecting from was Arthur himself.


End file.
